


Siberia

by synonyms4cinnamon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, It will get dark, M/M, Not Cursed Child Compliant, Past Child Abuse, Romance, Various Weasley Family Subplots, fair warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-04-28 17:11:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5098643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synonyms4cinnamon/pseuds/synonyms4cinnamon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Rose pries her head out of her ass, Rox goes for a walk in the woods, Lucy takes a nap, Lily celebrates a birthday, Louis zones out, Hugo gets a girlfriend, James hangs with some ghosts, Fred looks at his reflection, Molly writes a story, Scorp talks about his family, and Al watches it all. (Not necessarily in that order)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Black Death

**October 28 th, 2015**

  

The Halloween decoration competition was almost over at Hogwarts. The entire staff had been pushing for interhouse cooperation, and they had made great strides, but even they couldn’t deny the students some healthy competition. Every house wanted their decoration to be deemed the best and win the grand prize, 100 points toward their house. As October wore on, the ideas got more creative, more gruesome, and more realistic. 

Maybe that’s why no one noticed it at first. New decorations were popping up rapidly as the end of the month neared. No one could keep track of all of the new displays as they arrived. Perhaps it was because it was tucked into a corner. The hallway it was in was well traveled, but the nook was far enough out of the way not to be easily noticed. Possibly it was because everyone was just too busy between the upcoming not-so-secret-and-actually-kind-of-legendary Hufflepuff Halloween party and the exams it seemed almost every professor had scheduled that week and the rivalry quidditch match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw that Friday. Regardless of why, no one noticed it until midday.

The girl who did notice it was a quiet second year Gryffindor who seemed far too meek to have been sorted in the house of the brave and daring. Even after joining the Gryffindor quidditch team at her older sister’s prodding and becoming a promising seeker, she didn’t grow the confidence everyone else on the team seemed to have. Her reputation for being quiet simply followed her from the classroom to the quidditch pitch. That reputation left her that day. When she saw the display on her way from astronomy to potions she let out the loudest, longest, highest scream her small body could emit. 

Immediately, this she drew a crowd, and other students began to whisper about what the girl was still screaming about. Five suits of armor had been arranged in a circle with their swords raised together in camaraderie or victory or something similar. At first glance it seemed that they had somehow rusted overnight, but it wasn’t rust that stained the metal. It was dried blood, for on their swords rested a dead body. Two swords held it at the hips, one pierced each shoulder, and one was stuck right through where its heart belonged. The limbs hung at odd, disjointed angles indicating bad breaks. The body itself was positioned with its feet pointed out towards the corridor, one bunny slipper staring soullessly at the gawkers while its twin was lying in the still wet puddle of blood on the floor.

With how the body was positioned, identification should have been difficult. However, whoever had set it up had considered that and charmed the body’s disembodied head to hover a foot above the rest of the display for easy recognition. Her black hair formed a dark halo around her head, tousled either from bed head or a struggle. Mottled purple bruises accompanied by harsh, deep slices decorated the girl’s face. One of her eyes mimicked the glassy stare of the bunny slipper for the crowd while the other was too swollen to open. Her nose looked crooked and badly broken, and her mouth was frozen open in a scream as silent as the little Gryffindor’s was loud.

Along with students, the screaming brought along professors who ushered their pupils to leave the gruesome scene and get back to class. Then, those who weren’t supposed to be teaching were left to deal with the loss of one of their own. The death brought up questions of the school’s safety and the seriousness of the remaining Death Eater factions, but these were quickly quieted when no more incidents occurred.

In an effort to combat any potential house conflict due to ancient stereotypes and accusations, the professors emphasized interhouse unity more than ever that winter. What they couldn’t have known was that the murder itself was an exemplary show of the houses collaborating. Because they would never have believed that at least one student from every house was involved in killing the muggle studies professor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the next chapter will fast forward six years to when Rose and Scorp are actually in school.


	2. Just Another Day

It was six years later to the day, and hurricane Rose was on a rampage, sending students and teachers alike scurrying in the opposite direction. She stormed down the halls of the castle looking like an avenging angel on a mission. She also looked like a giant piece of bubblegum, which was the reason for her looking like an avenging angel.         

Rose had woken up that morning to find every last piece of her wardrobe charmed a hideous neon pink. With a castle full of mischievous cousins, the list of suspects could have easily been a mile long. There was only one name on that list, however: Scorpius Malfoy. Because it was _always_ Scorpius Malfoy. Ever since their second year, he’d done nothing but torment her. Of course, in natural Weasley style, she gave back just as good as she got, though their styles were widely different.          

When Rose was upset, she was a wildfire. She had absolutely no problem telling anyone exactly what she thought of them at a volume loud enough to ensure everyone else knew too with a jinx thrown in for good measure. Scorpius was quite the opposite, impassive as a frozen lake. He struck by night when there were no witnesses, and by day he feigned innocence perfectly.        

When Rose burst into the Great Hall, a hush fell over the room. Everyone knew by her demeanor and her outfit that they were going to get a show. By the time she had stomped over to stand behind Scorpius, the room was silent, because even the teachers knew that a) it would be impossible to hold a conversation for the next five minutes and b) nothing they could possibly say to each other would be as interesting as what they were about to hear.    

“MALFOY,” Rose bellowed, even though she was standing right behind him. Scorpius, for his part, didn’t even flinch. “What the _fuck_ did you do to my clothes?”           

Scorpius didn’t respond. His facial expressions were perfectly sculpted into his usual look of casual disinterest. He met Rose’s fiery gaze with one of boredom. This was nothing unusual, in all of the years of Rose screaming at him, he’d never once responded. Instead, he simply reached for the blueberry scone he’d been eating before the episode began. With a feral snarl Rose snatched the scone out of his hand and hurled it across the Great Hall, hitting Professor Vector in the back of her head. Rose immediately ducked down, grabbing the back of Scorpius’ shaggy white-blond hair.          

“I just want this _fixed,_ you Death Eater scum,” she spat in his face, not bothering to lower her voice, even though her face was mere inches from his. She was about to march away, when Scorpius turned the tables. He abruptly stood, towering over Rose, who herself was by no means short. Her hand was still locked in his hair, but her arm now extended over her head instead of being level with her face. She could see his grey eyes glinting dangerously like the blade of a sword under his snow-white fringe.           

“Excuse me,” he said, not letting the emotion in his eyes leak into his voice. With that, he moved past Rose and out of the Great Hall. Rose stood frozen for a moment, something about his voice not sitting properly. Then, she realized that everyone in the Great Hall was still staring at her and all thoughts about Scorpius Malfoy’s voice should be left to a later time. With a huff, she calmly walked over to the Gryffindor table, where her friends were waiting, and life slowly bled back into the Great Hall.     

Rose plopped herself into her usual seat next, letting her bag fall to the ground, and immediately began to fix herself a plate. She’d skipped dinner the night before to finish a charms essay, so she wasted no time in shoveling food into her mouth. Her mini feast was cut short when Al dropped into the seat across from her.          

“What are you mad a Scorpius for today, Rose,” he asked with a sigh, utterly done with his cousin’s temper.         

“The git turned my clothes pink, obviously,” Rose responded with a roll of her eyes.           

“No,” he said. It was only one word, but they way he said it was so definitive and full of conviction that it made you feel like a small child being scolded. When he accompanied it with his signature cold stare, it made you feel even smaller. Even Rose’s father in the midst of what could only be called a temper tantrum had shrunk under Albus’ “no”. “That’s not why you’re mad.”           

With that, he got up, walked over to the Slytherin table, and sat next to Cassidy Finnegan-Thomas. Rose just had to stare at her cousin in confusion as he talked to his fellow Slytherin. She just couldn’t understand what he meant. Malfoy had turned her clothes pink, which had lead to her telling him off. That was the only possible sequence of events. Then again, Al was usually better at reading people than she was. Even if the person was herself.          

“Did you understand any of that?” Jacob, Cassidy’s older brother and one of Rose’s best friends, asked.           

“Not a bit,” she said with a shake of her head.           

“Why is your cousin so damn cryptic all of the time?” he sighed.          

“I’m never cryptic,” a female voice chimed in from over Rose’s shoulder.          

“Not you, Rox. Al. No one could ever accuse you of being cryptic,” Rose clarified.           

“Damn right,” Roxanne nodded, her bright pink Mohawk bobbing slightly with the motion. “Now as for why I made the trip-“         

“Roseroserose,” Hugo cried as he scurried up to beside Roxanne. “Fred’s coming back. Apparently McGonnagall wanted someone at Gringotts to root through the Room of Requirement and find anything dangerous or valuable, because everyone knows it exists, because its mentioned in history when they talk about the war. But no one even listens to Binns, and even if they did they don’t know where it is or how to get in.” 

Shockingly enough, Hugo managed to say all of this in one breath and so quickly that most people interpreted it as an unintelligible slur. Rose, fortunately, had spent a lifetime learning to understand her brother, and was therefore able to understand a good 70% of what he had said. Her bright eyes looked to Roxanne for confirmation, and her cousin’s expression soured.           

“For Christ’s sake, Hugo, why do you have to be such a fucking Hufflepuff?” she growled.           

“Because I am a Hufflepuff,” he replied. “And so are you, so I don’t think you get to use that insult.”          

“I can say whatever the fuck I want.” Turning to Rose, “So Hugo beat me to the punch, but my dearest brother is returning to these hallowed halls to grace us once more with his ethereal presence.”           

“Merlin, Rox, you don’t have to lay on the sarcasm so heavy,” Rose laughed. “I know you and your brother don’t exactly see eye to eye, but him being back won’t ruin your life.”           

“Yes it will. I thought I was done with him and his dweebiness, but he must have thought Hogwarts was being to interesting without him.”           

“I’m sure you’ll barely notice he’s here. I mean, he’ll be holed up in the Room of Requirement most of the time, and you’ll be at your classes. Plus, if anything, he’ll commute at night, so you don’t have to worry about seeing him after working hours. But really you should be nicer to him, he is your-”          

Roxanne shut Hugo up by slapping a hand over top of his mouth. “Well, I’m going to take chatterbox back over to eat before we’re here all day. See you later, Rose.” Rox waved over her shoulder with here free hand as she went to deposit Hugo with his friends.          

“Hey, Rosie,” James called from the other end of the Gryffindor table as soon as her mouth had opened to talk to Jacob.         

“If you want to talk you’re going to have to move,” she yelled back. With a grumble, James reluctantly walked down to where Rose was sitting.           

“Did you happen to let Al into the common room recently?” he asked.          

“Yeah, he wanted to play exploding snap with Jacob, Emma, and I on Saturday. Why?”          

“Because the little bugger stole the thing again.”        

“The thing you stole from your dad’s desk and aren’t supposed to have in the first place?”          

“Yes, and I stole it so I should retain possession. Finders keepers. It’s basic logic any five year old would say the same,” he said with a touch of a whine that he would never admit to actually having.          

“Well, you still have the thing you’re allowed to have, but I have no idea why Uncle Harry would even think of giving it to you, so forgive me if I’m not sympathetic to your plight,” Rose deadpanned, but almost cracked a smile at Jacob’s clearly confused face.        

“Come on, Rosie. I have the whole plan worked out. All we need is a house elf, a Christmas tree, fifteen potatoes, and-”          

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Rose cut in. “I’m not going to be a part of any half-baked, harebrained scheme you’ve cooked up to steal it back.”      

“But-”           

“Good-bye, James,” she sing-songed.           

“Rosie-”          

“I said good-bye,” Rose said quickly, and possibly a tad too harshly. James stomped away, pouting, about to tell his friends how unreasonable his cousin was being and that his plan was _perfectly_ logical, thank you very much. Rose was just about to go back to her pancakes when some more cousins decided they hadn’t gotten a chance to interrupt her breakfast.          

“Rose,” two voices said from behind her just as she turned back to her pancakes.         

“What do you two want,” she sighed.         

“We just thought that with the day you’re having-” Louis started.          

“You could really use this,” Lucy finished, holding out a black bottle, which Rose cautiously accepted.         

“We’ll see you later, Rose,” they said in unison, before turning simultaneously and walking back over to the Ravenclaw table.

“No offense, Rose, but those two seriously creep me out,” Jacob said. Rose had completely forgotten that he had been sitting beside her through all of her cousinly interruptions.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “Sometimes its hard to remember that they aren’t actually twins.”

“Wait, they aren’t?” Jacob asked in astonishment. “But I could’ve sworn…. They look the same, though. And all of that talking and moving in sync? They have to be twins.”

“Nope,” Rose said through a mouth full of pancake. “Louis is my Aunt Fleur and uncle Bill’s son, and Lucy belongs to my Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey. They were born on the same day, though, and they’re really close.”

“That may just be the understatement of the year,” Jacob laughed. “What did they give you anyways?” 

Rose pulled out the stopper on the bottle, which was much more difficult than she was expecting, and poured a small amount into a silver goblet to gauge the color. She looked blankly at the teal liquid, having absolutely no idea what it was supposed to be. “No idea,” she answered, but Jacob must have recognized it, because he was shaking with laughter.

“It’s Draught of Peace. I guess they thought you needed to calm down after your little display.”

“I do _not_ need to calm down. Everything I did was perfectly justifiable,” Rose said, though her face had turned beet red in a blush.

“Just keep telling yourself that,” Jacob sighed. “And I hate to break it to you, but we need to go or we’re going to be late for charms.” 

Rose looked dejectedly at her plate still overflowing with pancakes. “But breakfast-”

“Is over, and you wasted most of it screaming at Malfoy and dealing with your cousins,” Jacob reminded her. Rose sighed, knowing he was right. She slung her bag over her shoulder and followed Jacob out of the Great Hall. “And speaking of your cousins, I don’t know how you stand having so many.” 

“You get used to it,” Rose shrugged. “At least Lily didn’t show up this morning.” 

Jacob visibly shuddered. “Remember the last time she was at breakfast?”

“You mean Monday when she laced the food with canary creams?” Rose giggled.

 “You’re only laughing because you slept in that morning,” Jacob huffed as they approached the stairs. The pair paused for a second as he dug out his wand and levitated his wheelchair. “I don’t know what she did to them, but they didn’t wear off until dinner.”

 “That’s just what happens when they’re expired,” Rose informed him. “At least it wasn’t snackboxes this time. I Imagine being a canary for a day is much better than whatever mixture of illness she would cook up.”

 “At least those have antidotes so you aren’t just waiting around to not be a canary. Though I was a very pretty canary, if I do say so myself.”

 “I imagine you made a very fine bird, Jacob,” Rose snorted as they entered the classroom, ignoring Jacob’s look of indignity. As soon as she walked through the doorway, Emma pounced on her.

“Did you know we had an essay due today?” the tiny brunette asked, panicked.

 “Yes. I was working on it last night.”

 “ _That’s_ why you came back to the dorm so late. I was starting to think you’d fallen down off of Astronomy Tower and Filch was scraping you off of the cobblestones.”

 “I did ask you if you wanted to come to the library with me,” Rose reminded her friend.

 “But I didn’t _know_ we had an essay due. Do you think Professor Flitwick will give me until tomorrow?” Emma asked franticly, shifting her weight rapidly from one foot to the other.

 “Depends on what mood he’s in,” Rose replied, honestly. “What happened to that Remembrall I got you for your birthday?”

 Emma’s frenzied state was quickly replaced with one of embarrassment. “I lost it,” she mumbled, looking at the floor.

 “I’ll just have to get you a new one, then,” Rose said, hoping to and succeeding in raising her friend’s spirits. “Now let’s sit down before Flitwick loses it about his ‘precious pupils not taking their magical education seriously.’”

 Emma nodded and followed Rose to their usual seats in the back of the classroom. The day’s lesson was on _silencio_ , a charm that she had mastered years ago out of necessity. Holidays at the Burrow could get quite loud, and sometimes a few less voices could be appreciated. That being said, it had to be cast sneakily, as some adults took less kindly than others illegal magic being used to steal children’s voices.

 Knowing that she would gain nothing from this class, Rose allowed her mind to wander to a topic that had perturbed her earlier: Scorpius Malfoy’s voice. It was far deeper than what she had remembered it sounding like, which was what had thrown her off initially. Perhaps he was charmed or even sick.

 She searched her memory for a recent recollection of his voice, only to come up blank. Reasoning that she didn’t associate herself with Death Eaters very often, Rose let her search go farther back. She got as far back as her first year, when she had first met Scorpius, when she realized she didn’t have a memory of him speaking at all. There wasn’t one memory of him speaking in class, let alone to her face. That was when the realization hit her like the smell of James’ “lucky” quidditch socks: Scorpius Malfoy had never spoken to her before that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was way more dialogue than I'm used to writing.


	3. Stop! Wait! What?!

Later that night, Albus was on his way to an extra astronomy study session when he saw Scorpius in a rather precarious position. All six feet and three inches was balanced on a chair as he tried to hold a box to the wall with one hand and cast a spell with the other. It was an odd scene, to be sure, and Al was early enough for class that he had enough time to investigate.

“What on earth are you doing?” he asked. Scorpius, who for his part jumped nearly a foot, smacking his head off of the ceiling and nearly falling off of the chair. Al’s arms immediately went up to help steady his dormmate.

“Merlin, Al, were you trying to kill me?” Scorpius shot with a glare.

“Oh, come off it. You scare too easily,” Al teased.

“Shut up,” Scorpius said, falling into banter the way one does after years of practice. “Hey do you have any Weasley’s Super Sticking Gum on you?”

Al dug around in his pockets, and was actually surprised when he found a piece. He wasn’t as liable as his cousins to carry around merchandise from his Uncles’ joke shop, it caused too much trouble for his liking. He handed over the stick of gum to Scorpius, who promptly stuck it in his mouth and started chewing.

“So back to my original question: What are you doing?”

“Project for McGonagall,” Scorpius replied, being purposely vague.

“The project that’s made you stay out until three in the morning almost every night for the past two years?”

“The very same. And I stopped working so late when you decided to become my mother and gave me a bed time.”

“Staying out so late was bad for your health, and you woke everyone up when you came to bed,” Al reasoned. “Also stop trying to change the subject and tell me what you’re doing. Scorpius just smiled at Al, fixed the box on the wall, and hopped down from the chair. He then cast a quick sticking charm before turning back to his friend.

“You’ll find out tomorrow with everyone else,” he laughed, turning to head down the steps. “Now get to astronomy and I’ll quiz you later.”

“By the way, you should really stop antagonizing Rose,” Albus called at Scorpius’s retreating back.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Scropius responded without turning around.

Al sighed and continued into the astronomy classroom. Scorpius had been doing this for years. Ever since Al had suggested that his best friend not terrorize his cousin. He just played dumb, always insisting that he was perfectly innocent and that Rose was just crazy. Albus didn’t believe him. In all of his years of being Scorpius’ friend, he had never seen him be innocent in any interpretation of the word. Besides, Rose may be a tiger, but she only attacked when provoked.

Al sat in his seat, and a sense of dread overwhelmed him. He truly hated astronomy. Not only because it was held far later at night than any class had a right to be, but also because he just didn’t see the point. Giant balls of flaming gas had absolutely nothing to do with his life. Not that he’d ever even think of voicing that thought to his cousin Victoire, who had made a career from her eerily accurate predictions via astronomy and divination (another subject he loathed).

Even though he was there because he needed help in astronomy, Al didn’t pay attention as Professor Aribatte began to talk about how they were lucky because Jupiter was perfectly in position tonight. Instead, his thoughts drifted to a new topic: inviting Scorpius to the Burrow for Christmas.

Technically it was three days before Christmas a.k.a. the Weasley Extended Family Extravaganza. All of his cousins, aunts, and uncles were under one roof for one day a year, and, yes, it was chaos, but it was also something everyone looked forward to every year. Each cousin had one guest invite, and for years he hadn’t used his because of the fear his family wouldn’t approve of the only person he wanted to invite.

Actually, Al wasn’t all that worried about most of his family. It was just Rose. It’d taken him three months to get her to speak to him after he was sorted into Slytherin, and it’d been awful. If she found out that he’d befriended the one person she despised more than anyone else, she would scream. She would cry. She would murder him in cold blood. Luckily, Scorpius understood him fearing his cousins’ wrath, having been on the opposite side of it quite frequently, and took no offense to Al not paying him much attention outside of their dorm room. It was time to face the music, though. He was going to do it, and he might not survive the introduction, but it was time.

With that resolved, he had nothing better to do than take diligent notes in the form of nonsensical doodles. He was halfway done with drawing either a poodle in a tornado or a cloud tap dancing when they were finally dismissed. Al bolted before Professor Aribatte could think of any last minute topics to address. He was halfway to the Slytherin common room when he literally ran into Lily.

“Goddammit, Lils,” he swore rubbing the spot on his head that had smacked off of the floor. “Did you steal the invisibility cloak again?”

“Maybe,” Lilly’s disembodied head snarked back at him.

“Is this why James has been giving me death glares for the past week?”

“I cannot speak for anything our brother may or may not believe, but I may have told him I saw you sneaking up to the Gryffindor’s boys’ dormitory recently.”

“You know I hate you, right?” Al scowled down at his little sister.

“I know,” Lily answered with a cheeky grin.

“So what are you doing out so late anyways?” he asked with a sigh, knowing that Lily hadn’t been up to anything good. His parents had literally written McGonagall a letter saying “Sorry about Lily” the day before she started at Hogwarts.

“Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder and Decoy Detonators,” Lily shrugged, as though that was all the explanation Al needed. “Now if you would excuse me, I need to change Rose’s wardrobe to a color less pink.”

“Wait,” Al said, grabbing Lily by her arm. “Scorpius pulled that stunt. How could you possibly know the charm to undo it?”

Lily looked at her brother like he had just grown three antlers and a duckbill. “I thought out of all people _you_ would know. I mean, Rose has hated the kid since she laid eyes on him, and the others don’t really care. But _you_ , you live with him for Christ’s sake.”

Now it was Al’s turn to stare at his sibling in confusion, as Lily was currently doubled over laughing. As he began to process her words, however, things began falling into place. The way Lily pranked everyone, especially her cousins, but never Rose. Scorpius’ response to being told not to bother Rose. His own knowledge that Rose hated Scorpius for more than what he did to her.

“Are you telling me that _you_ have been pranking Rose for _years_ and have been blaming _Scorpius_ the _entire_ time?” Al hissed.

“Ding ding ding we have a winner,” Lily smiled. “Give the boy a prize.”

Her smile quickly disappeared when Al’s light hold on her arm became a death grip as he dragged his sister down the corridors at a breakneck speed. At first, Lily just went with it, but then she noticed the direction they were heading as well as the determined look in her brother’s eyes, and she put two and two together.

“Please, you don’t have to do this,” she begged. “I’ll do whatever you want. No pranks on you for a week. A month? A year?”

Albus acted like he didn’t hear her pleas, making sure that his stony expression remained impassive. He was furious. All of the time spent agonizing about whether introducing Scorpius as his best friend to his family was worth his death, when, in reality, it shouldn’t have even been a question. All because of his _fucking sister._

He dragged Lily to the Fat Lady’s portrait. They stood there for a second, Lily unwilling to speak the word that would lead to her doom. Al just turned to her and gave her the glare he reserved for when Rose ruined the potions essay he’d spent all night on or when he found out James had been writing detailed letters about his love life to their parents. It was murderous, but also filled with betrayal, and Lily was determined not to let it work on it.

“Say it,” he growled at his sister, jerking her arm forward.

“Pumpkin peppermint,” she muttered, still staring resolutely at the ground.

The portrait opened, revealing the cozy Gryffindor common room. It was empty save a few third years chatting by the fireplace, and Rose reading some muggle novel in the corner. Al practically dragged Lily over to their cousin, his sister digging her feet to the carpet and at some points attempting to make a dash for the girls’ dorms where her goody-two-shoes brother couldn’t follow. Even with the noise their struggle made, Rose was completely oblivious to her cousins’ presence. It was only when Al cleared his throat did she start and look up.

“Oh, hey guys, what brings you over?” she asked curiously.

“Go on, Lils, tell her,” Albus spat, shoving his little sister forward.

“Well, I was just working with some Peruvian Instant Dark-”

“Not that,” he hissed with a sharp elbow to the ribs, “The other thing.”

Lily was silent, and Rose looked at her with expectant eyes. She looked at Al with pleading eyes, begging him to not make her sign her own death certificate. The gaze her returned to her, however, was stony and unsympathetic. Taking one last deep breath, and accepting her fate, she turned back to Rose.

“I was the one that turned your clothes pink,” she mumbled.

“And…” Al prodded her.

“And I’ve been blaming all of the pranks I’ve done on you for the past four years on Scorpius Malfoy….”

Surprisingly Rose didn’t look upset. Her face was its normal, tan hue, and the vein on her neck was its normal size. It took almost five minutes for her to speak again, and when she did, it was in a scarily peaceful voice. “Well, at least this has been cleared up. I thought some of those pranks were a little too clever to be thought up by a Death Eater anyways. So tell me Lily, which ones were yours?”

“All of them?” Lily responded hesitantly, not sure which words would set off the bomb that was her cousin. Rose’s eyes widened, but it seemed to be in confusion rather than rage.

“Bubble Ears?” Rose questioned.

“Not my best.”

“Rogue Shoes?”

“Surprisingly tricky charm work.”

“Screaming Textbooks?”

“Really just two charms stuck together.”

“Pixie Stalkers?”

“Actually managed to get Hagrid’s help with that one.”

With every named prank, Rose’s breathing had increased and her eyes had become wilder. Lily was sure she was about to snap any moment, though she had to commend her cousin for staying calm thus far. It was a surprise to both Potter children when Rose abruptly stood and muttered something about going to bed. As Rose disappeared up the steps to the girls’ dormitories, Al and Lily both gaped at the latter’s unbelievable luck.

Rose, however, was still in a daze. She fell into her bed fully dressed and just stared at the canopy. If what her cousin had said was true, then Malfoy wasn’t the annoying, sadistic prick she’d thought he was. Merlin, the poor boy hadn’t even spoken to her. She wracked her brain trying to find any slight she’d seen him make to her with her own eyes, and like when she tried to find a memory of his voice, came up blank.

_He must think I’m insane_ , Rose thought to herself. A tinier voice muttered something about not caring what Death Eaters thought of you, but Rose ignored it. _I’ve been screaming at him for years over nothing._

For some reason, Rose still couldn’t fully wrap her head around the fact that Scorpius Malfoy hadn’t been tormenting her since they started school. No, more like second year. The same year Lily started Hogwarts. Was she really that dumb? Apparently.

Suddenly, thoughts of tomorrow raced through Rose’s head. What if she saw him? How should she act? Would she have to apologize? Rose Weasley never apologized. She was wrong more often than she cared to admit, but she never apologized for believing something. That was something her mother had taught her.

She may have had no memory of him hurting her, but she sure as hell didn’t recall him ever being kind. Then she didn’t owe him anything, right? Certainly not an apology. Hell, she hadn’t even been the one in the wrong. She had simply drawn logical conclusions based on the facts provided, another talent she had learned from her mother. If anything, Lily was in the wrong for _letting_ her draw incorrect conclusions.

Speaking, or rather thinking of Lily, reminded Rose that her dearest cousin had been the one tormenting her for years. Without retribution to boot. Four years worth of embarrassment, hatred, and anger hit Rose like a bolt of lightning, causing her to let out an almost inhuman shriek that woke the rest of Gryffindor Tower.

 

“LIIILLLLLYYYYYYYY”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last scream probably should have had an exclamation mark, but I loathe them. I just couldn't bring myself to use one. I apologize.


	4. King of New York

At breakfast, it was like Christmas had come 58 days early. Half of the students were running around the tables in a frenzy, and the other half were staring at them like they’d suddenly grown third arms. The reason for the excitement: in every common room that morning, there had been a pile of rubber casings and a note. For the first time since its foundation, muggle electronics worked at Hogwarts.

Of course, there weren’t a lot of muggle electronics at Hogwarts. After their first year, most students left them at home. However, some still carried their phones on them out of sentimentality or habit or just to keep them out of the hands of their siblings. However, the students who did have devices were more than willing to share not only with those who wanted to use it, but with those who had never seen a computer much less know how to use one. It lead to a bit of pandemonium the professors soon realized they did not have the means to quiet.

Through all of the screaming, laughing, and confusion, there was one boy who sat silently eating his oatmeal. There was one thing that set him apart from all of his peers: vinegar. He absolutely reeked of vinegar. Even through all of the commotion, the stench kept them outside of a five foot radius of him. The boy didn’t notice. He hadn’t slept the night before, and it took all of his concentration not to faceplant into his breakfast. It was supposed to be the best day of Scorpius Malfoy’s life, and he wasn’t even coherent enough to enjoy it.

“Is this what that giant project you weren’t able to tell me about forever was?” Al asked, plopping down next to his best friend.

“Uh-huh,” Scorpius responded, not breaking eye contact with his oatmeal. He heard Al shoot up faster than he’d sat down, but didn’t think anything of it. What he didn’t hear was his best friend rushing to Rose to rub it in her face that she was wrong about Scorpius.

Rose was already confused as it was. She’d chewed Lily out for the better part of two hours at a volume that meant most of Gryffindor house was sleep deprived. She’d then contemplated the existence of Scorpius Malfoy for another hour, and ended the night with the conclusion that just because he hadn’t been tormenting her for the duration of her Hogwarts career didn’t mean he was a good person. In her book he was still a Death Eater. This was decided before Emma woke her up by jumping on her bed and waving a glowing screen in her face.

“You ready to admit you were wrong yet?” Al asked from over her shoulder. 

“It doesn’t mean anything,” she shot back, icily.

“Are you seriously so mad about being wrong that you won’t admit Scorpius isn’t the monster that you seem to think he is?”

“He’s a Death Eater, Al. Stop being so blind,” Rose sighed with a roll of her eyes. Albus stared at her in disbelief for a solid minute before he started to pull at his hair.

“We have established that _he has done literally nothing_ to you with the whole Lily thing, right? And he has worked for three _fucking years_ to get muggle technology to work in this castle, a feat that _only benefits_ the people you think he thinks are inferior, because people who grew up in the wizarding world, like you and me _have absolutely no use for it_. And you still have the _audacity_ to call him a Death Eater? I’m not the one who’s blind, Rose. You owe him an apology.”

Rose was about to retort when Albus grabbed her by the arm and yanked her out of her seat. He silently led her to the other side of the Great Hall, where Scorpius was losing his battle with consciousness. He didn’t even notice the two cousins had arrived until Al cleared his throat.

“Rose, don’t you have something to say to Scorpius?” Al prompted. Scorpius just stared at them, not sure why his best friend wanted him to be screamed at.

“Sorry,” she muttered, but anyone could tell she wasn’t really sorry at all. If her crossed arms and refusal to even look at Scorpius weren’t enough, the eye roll she delivered with the apology sealed the deal. Albus, clearly not satisfied with her performance, delivered a sharp jab to her ribs and cleared his throat more pointedly.

“I’m sorry for treating you like shit for the past couple of years,” Rose sighed. For good measure, she even threw in a hug, despite the smell of vinegar. It didn’t last long, but it got the point across. Satisfied, Albus plopped down next to Scorpius and started pounding him with questions about how the new gadgets worked. Rose took that as her cue to leave, and quickly made her way back to her dormitory.

Scorpius was just confused. He answered Al’s questions as best he could, which was not very well at all. He hadn’t designed the cases after all, the credit for that went to a very brilliant Muggle Studies professor who figured out how to convert electrical energy to magical energy and that separating the two eliminated the interference that caused electronics to fizzle out in the presence of magic.

He was also confused by Rose’s behavior. Not the obviously forced and insincere apology, but the hug, which hadn’t been as benign as Al had thought. Her nails had dug into his back, almost breaking the skin, and then there was the message she’d hissed into his ear:

“I don’t know what my cousin sees in you, but I know what you are. This is just a ploy to cover up some secret agenda, and I will not rest until I expose you as the Death Eater we both know you are. Am I making myself clear?” The words had been full of venom and spite and were far more terrifying then her usual outbursts. Rose Weasley was out for blood, and even through his sleep deprived haze, Scorpius Malfoy was absolutely terrified.

The rest of the day was considerably better than breakfast. There weren’t any shared classes between Slytherin and Gryffindor until after lunch, so Rose wasn’t staring daggers into the back of his head like she usually did. Seemingly making up for her absence, absolutely everyone else was staring at him. Somehow word had gotten out that he was the one that made technology work at Hogwarts. Scorpius didn’t know for sure that Al was telling everyone he saw an extremely embellished version of the creation process, but he suspected.

In his defense, Al didn’t tell everyone, just a couple of people. But then those people told other and those other told other others and the whole thing spread like wildfire. With every retelling, Al’s already exaggerated tale was morphed beyond recognition. It didn’t take more than an hour for everyone in the entire castle to have heard one version of the story or another. That is, except for Rose. But we’ll get to her later.

By the time Transfiguration rolled around, Scorpius was tired of the entire ordeal. The eyes that followed him wherever he went reminded him of his first year at Hogwarts, when everyone was waiting for the other shoe to drop. For him to he stuck up and bigoted. When he turned out normal, or at least not the next Dark Lord, the school lost interest, and Scorpius did his best to blend into the background. Not that it worked all that well. He was still considered one of the most eligible bachelors at Hogwarts. For some reason they described his cold demeanor around others as “mysterious” and “aloof” rather than “asocial” and “uncomfortable.” It was amazing how people could spin the truth to make reality fit their daydreams, though for Scorpius, it felt more like a nightmare.

He and Al took their lunch by a secluded corner of the lake to try and avoid Scorpius’ new, avid fans. They failed. Within two minutes of them sitting down, the previously empty area was filled with students, who had all apparently decided to eat outside, despite the chilly October air. Scorpius wasn’t stupid, he knew they were there because he was, but as long as they kept their distance, he was fine.

“E-excuse me,” a tiny third year Gryffindor girl stuttered. Both boys looked up to find she was addressing them. Or rather, addressing Hogwarts new golden boy.

“Yes?” Scorpius replied, completely uncomfortable with the way this was going.

“I-I just want to, um, thank you. For everything. With the, y’know um, phones working and stuff?” Scorpius couldn’t tell if the red in her face was from the cold or if it was a blush, and he desperately hoped it was the former. “I just talked to my, um, parents for the first time in forever, and… Ijustreallyappreciateit.”

With her final rushed words, she threw a package at him, which ended up connecting solidly with his forehead. By the time he had time to process what had just happened, the girl was gone. In his lap, however, her gift remained. It was a box of Honeydukes’ chocolate. The expensive kind. Before he had time to even open the box someone cleared their throat above him.

“Hey, I heard what you did, and it was really cool. I haven’t seen my little brother smile since he got here, but his phone working made him beam so, here.” The delivery may have been more solid, but the gift giving was just as awkward as the first, if less painful. The seventh year Hufflepuff, shoved a bottle of firewhiskey into his arms before leaving without another word.

“Are you seeing this?” Scorpius asked Al, not quite believing his own eyes.

“Every bit,” Albus said, “Pass the chocolate.”

Al didn’t wait for him to pass anything, preferring instead, to grab the chocolate from his best friend and promptly dig in. For all of the cool composure he showed, Albus Severus Potter had an incurable sweet tooth and would sell his soul to go to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, consequences be damned. Scorpius just stared at his friend in awe as Al inhaled the sweets, getting chocolate all over his face in the process.

“Pardon us,” a sweet voice spoke, catching the boys’ attention. The two looked up only to see an absolutely gorgeous girl. Neither boy could quite believe his eyes when they noticed the three equally gorgeous girls behind her.

“You’re Scorpius Malfoy, right?” another asked. Scorpius could only nod dumbly, fearing speaking might dissolve what obviously had to be a dream. A lot of people may have been grateful for the whole tech thing, but that group surely couldn’t have extended to the four most beautiful girls in school.

“AAHHHH. THANK YOU SO MUCH,” the redhead screeched, quickly making her way from the back of the group to sitting on Scorpius’ lap with her arms around his neck. He frankly didn’t know what to do, since the last time he was this close to a girl Rose Weasley was threatening him. In fact, all of the times he could recall having a girl this close to him involved Rose Weasley threatening him, but she’d definitely never pressed her body against his like this. As he was just sort-of-not-really getting used to one female body’s close proximity, he could feel another one push up against his back.

“Y’know, I don’t know what you did, but you sure did make our girl very happy,” a sultry voice whispered from behind him, as fingers walked up his shoulder.

“And we’re all just _so_ appreciative of what you’ve done,” an equally low voice murmured into his ear as a finger tucked a stray strand of hair behind it.

 “So how about we go somewhere a little more private so we can show you just _how_ appreciative we are,” he heard in his other ear as lips ghosted over his neck. Just to drive the point home, the girl on his lap ground down, making him blush as the bulge in his pants grew.

“O-o-ok,” Scorpius managed to stutter out as the girls helped him to his feet and started to gather his things. It was an offer no fifteen-year-old boy could refuse. Well, except maybe Al, who was still gawking at the scene in front of him with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. As he watched his best friend be dragged away, the first thought that crossed his mind was: _At least he left the chocolates._ This was quickly followed by: _Shit I’m going to be late._ It took Al all of thirty seconds to finish off the sweets, before he was rushing off to Herbology. Scorpius never showed up.

Neither, did Rose Weasley. Actually, she hadn’t attended any of her classes that day. After her encounter with Scorpius in the morning, she had promptly marched to the shower, made the water as hot as possible, and scrubbed, trying to get the feel of him off of her. By midday she was as red as a lobster and no closer to getting the Death Eater off of her, though the vinegar smell had long since disappeared. Emma had come by during breaks and all but begged her to come out, citing rules and grades and food, but Rose had adamantly refused.

Besides decontamination, the shower also gave her a time and place to think, as it is a universal fact of the universe that all of the best ideas are thought of in the shower. She needed the rest of the school to see that he wasn’t the hero everyone though he was. But that would require strong evidence she just didn’t have. What was she supposed to say, she was an excellent judge of character and right more often than not so obviously Hogwart’s new golden boy was evil? Her word wouldn’t be enough. But his might.

The idea slapped her in the face almost immediately. Of course, if she could get him to confess that the whole muggle tech thing was a ruse to gain trust that he could then manipulate, everyone would see him as Rose did. As he truly was. It wouldn’t be easy, and she would have to record him saying it, or no one would believe her. The Hufflepuff Halloween party was coming up, though, so maybe if she got him drunk enough he would spill his guts. But who would let their guard down around someone they knew hated them? Only a complete moron, and for everything she hated about Scorpius, she had to conceded that he was exceedingly intelligent. Almost as intelligent as her.

She would just have to charm the snake. As the pieces fell together, Rose felt a grin spread over her face. With her plan solidified in her mind, Rose ended her six hour shower, ignoring the fact that she hadn’t been able to get the places where she’d touched Scorpius to stop tingling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do four gorgeous girls want to bang Scorpius while he reeks of vinegar? The world may never know.


	5. Superboy and the Invisible Girl

Fred Weasley II had never wanted to travel. Sure, he’d been to Paris and Berlin and all of the other places he’d been dragged during family vacation, but he’d never dreamed of adventure in far away places. Therefore, when he was told he was being promoted from categorizing valuables in his little broom closet of an office to categorizing valuables in the field, he’d opted for the assignment closest to home, even if it may not have been the safest.

That was how he found himself back in the headmistress’ office two years after he graduated. Well, not really back because he’d been a model student (despite his namesake’s legacy) and had never been summoned or sent to the room before. And he gained a whole new appreciation of that fact as he waited for Headmistress McGonagall to finish her paperwork and address him. Even while being completely benign, she was terrifying. He couldn’t imagine what she was like when she was actually angry.

With the sigh of someone who was overworked and underpaid, McGonagall finally set aside her paper to look at the nervous boy in front of her. Fred just gulped and shifted his weight, knowing he wasn’t the least bit in trouble but finding it increasingly difficult to steady his erratic heartbeat.

“Sit down, Fred,” the Headmistress sighed, not wanting to watch a former student have a heart attack in front of her. “I assume you know why you’re here.”

“You wanted to have artifacts classified, appraised, and/or deactivated?” Fred responded with a nervous lift in his voice, as though he was unsure of his purpose, even though he had been told quite clearly before his arrival.

“Don’t sound so unsure of yourself. Yes, you are exactly right. I’ve been increasingly worried about the artifacts in the Room of Requirement, which I’m sure you’ve heard all about form your father.” McGonagall paused briefly, looking for confirmation, and Fred rapidly nodded his head. “Well, while Albus never saw it as a threat, I can’t help but imagine all of the terrible, dangerous items students could stumble across. It housed a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul for fifty years for goodness sake.”

“I couldn’t have possibly known that, Minerva,” Dumbledore’s portrait called from the wall, coming to the defense of the dead headmaster.

“Well of course not, but that doesn’t mean that it still wasn’t irresponsible of you to allow the room to continue without knowing what was in there. Students could have been seriously injured.”

“Oh, but how does one learn without pain?” Albus’ portrait shot back.

“You know what?” Minerva said with an irritated lilt in her voice, standing up and moving closer to the painting. “You are no longer headmaster of this school, Albus, I am. And my judgment stands. Children learn just fine without pain, and in general, they tend to be happier and MORE ALIVE.”

With that final thought, she flipped his painting around, resulting in muffled cries of rage from the former headmaster. Minerva just turned around, closed her eyes, and smoothed a stray grey hair off of her forehead. Seeming to have collected herself, she smiled at the boy who looked quite pale at the headmistress’ outburst.

“And I thought he was insufferable when he was alive,” she scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “Really, nothing can prepare you for spending all of your days with that man. It’s no wonder he never married. Back to the matter at hand. Yes, I would very much appreciate it if you could remove any dangerous objects from the room before one of my students gets themselves killed. I’ve arranged for you to have accommodations next to Ravenclaw Tower. Just stop by or send an owl if you need anything further. Do you have any questions?”

Fred just shook his head, not trusting himself not to stutter and not wanting to seem weak, as he was the person Headmistress McGonagall was entrusting with the lives of her students. He heard her say something about showing him his rooms, and he dutifully followed her out of her office and through the maze of hallways he’d memorized in his youth. He was secretly glad that McGonagall seemed to sense he wasn’t up in the mood for conversation, letting a comfortable silence fall between them during their walk. It gave him time to process.

He was also grateful that his rooms were by Ravenclaw Tower and not any of the other houses. He’d been sorted into Gryffindor when he was eleven, but the meek, studious boy he’d been had been subject to constant bullying by his peers, and he wasn’t sure that the quiet, nervous man he’d grown to be wouldn’t be subject to the same treatment. Hufflepuffs had always been nice to him, but with his annoying little sister now amongst their ranks... And while he’d never been personally wronged by a Slytherin, he preferred open air to the dungeons they inhabited.

The walk seemed not to take as long as he remembered, and in what seemed like a blink of an eye, he was standing in front of a nondescript door across from a tapestry of knights juggling pygmy puffs.

“This is where you’ll be staying, Mr. Weasley. Feel free to either take your meals in the Great Hall or in your room. The house elves will be more than happy to deliver. If you need anything, I’ll be in my office,” the headmistress said before turning and walking back down the hallway, leaving Fred alone.

The door creaked as he opened it, leading him into a nice living room area. He could see his books on the bookshelves lining the right wall and his cloak on the coat rack. When they said they’d take care of everything, they meant it. In the bathroom his shampoo and soap sat waiting in the shower, and his clothes were packed neatly into the dresser in the bedroom. It was like he was back in his flat in London, except with more space and less cockroaches.

Seeing as there was really nothing left for him to do, Fred figured he might take a walk around the grounds. The sun was setting, and if there was one thing he’d always adored it was the reflection of the sunset on the Great Lake. He grabbed a cloak on his way out the door, not wanting to be caught in the crisp October air in only his thin cardigan.

It was thirteen minutes later that Fred was realizing he might not have remembered Hogwarts as well as he’d believed. Perhaps the hallways had taken after the staircases and begun to move. He was about to give up and attempt to retrace his steps when he heard voices around the corner. Before he could reveal himself and ask for directions, however, he realized exactly whose voice he was hearing.

“Didn’t you hear me asshole? I asked you who the fuck you think you are? Seriously, you’d think your mother would have taught you not to pick on little girls.” Yes. That was definitely his loudmouth little sister mouthing off to someone probably three times her size. No surprise there. Also unsurprising was the sound of flesh smashing into flesh that followed. Or any of the unpleasant sounds that detailed the subsequent fight. It was only after his sister had spat out a final “And stay out.” that he turned the corner.

Roxanne Weasley was standing crouched in front of a tiny, crying first year Ravenclaw girl, shushing her and wiping away her tears, though she looked unharmed. The pink haired girl was another story. While her Mohawk still reached proudly for the ceiling, she sported a black eye and a split lip. Though, she seemed to pay mind to neither. Down the hallway he could see the retreating form of a Slytherin boy sporting a limp. Fred really didn’t want to imagine the damage his little sister had done to him.

“Honestly, Annie, does everything have to come to blows with you?” he chided, making his presence known.

The gentle smile on Rox’s face was exchanged for a scowl as she stood up to face her brother. “Would you have rather she get her face beat in?” she spat. Then more gently, “Mellie, I think you better make your way back to the tower.”

The little girl nodded and was gone in a flash, leaving the siblings alone. Fred couldn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes at his sister’s attire. Her boots belonged in a war zone not a school, her jeans were more hole than fabric, her black leather jacket had enough studs and spikes it was a safety hazard, top it all off with her bright pink three foot tall hair, and it was just too much.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she growled, trying not to shift under his gaze.

“Like what, Annie? Like a hooligan? Because that’s exactly what I see.”

“Don’t _call_ me that.”

“What? A hooligan? Or your name? Face it, _Annie_. That’s your name and it always will be. Just like no matter how hard you try to act tough, you’ll always be my sniveling, scared Hufflepuff little sister,” Fred hissed, moving closer until he was nose to nose with his sister. He could see the unshed tears in her eyes, and though he knew it was wrong, he felt a swell of pride in his chest. The feeling only grew when her head dropped, breaking his gaze.

“Why do you have to be such a dick?” she hissed.

“Why do you have to be such a bitch?” he shot back. “It’s not like anyone believes your little tough act. You’re just fooling yourself, Annie. Why don’t you take a stab at being who you actually are.”

“Like you have _any_ fucking idea who I am,” she laughed hysterically. “You wouldn’t even admit we were related for _five fucking years_. Couldn’t let all your little friends know you were related to a Hufflepuff, could you?”

She looked at him again, then. The previously unshed tears now rolling down her face, taking her mascara with it. Her glare was full of venom and loathing and disappointment.

“Can you really blame me, though?” he sneered, gesturing to her appearance with his eyes. That earned him a cold, hard slap across the face, Rox’s nails cutting his cheek on the way. She then stormed off down the hallway without another word, leaving her brother holding his bruised and bleeding cheek and wondering what on earth had just happened.

Being far too used to his sister’s dramatics, Fred just gave one final eye roll in her direction before resuming his attempt to find the outdoors. By the time he did, it was already dark outside, and he cursed Rox for making him late.

_Oh well_ , he thought. _I’ll be here long enough to catch plenty of sunsets._

With that, he meandered his way through the castle until he found his way back to his plain wooden door. Eating a quick, house elf delivered meal, he read a chapter of a novel he’d read at least a dozen times before making his way to bed. He had an early morning after all.

Far too early of a morning. The headmistress had failed to mention that the job included a house elf wake up call before dawn had even thought of breaking the horizon. He plodded through his morning routine before meandering his way through the castle to attempt to find an invisible room. A task achieved after an hour and a half and the help of half a baker’s dozen of friendly ghosts. Then he just stood in front of a blank wall, waiting for a door to appear.

“Come on, you blasted thing,” he muttered to the stones. “I can’t do my job if I can’t get in you, and I can’t get in you unless you give me a freaking door.”

 The wall did not change. Fred began to pace.

“It’s something about needing you isn’t it? Am I not making you feel loved enough? Well, I’ll tell you what. I really, _really_ need you because I really, _really_ need to do my job so will you just OPEN THE FUCK UP?”

Suddenly a door appeared, and Fred allowed himself a self-satisfied smirk. After straightening his tie briefly, he charged ahead. After all, there was work to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention subplots? Because there are subplots.


	6. Make a Move

“Pleeeeeaaaaaaassse, Hugo?” Rose whined, squishing her little brother in her arms until his face started to turn purple. “I neeeeeeeeeeed a pass.”

“Get Rox to give you hers,” Hugo grumbled, finally succeeding in prying his sister off of him. “I give you mine every year.”

“Then why break tradition? Plus I already asked Rox and she’s giving hers to Jason,” Rose replied with a roll of her eyes. “Who would you give it to anyways?”

“Well, I was thinking about giving it to Cassi,” Hugo muttered under his breath, hoping his big sister wouldn’t hear. Luck was not on his side that day, because her nose immediately scrunched in distaste.

“The _snake_?”

“The _girl_. And don’t try to act like you hate her.”

“She’s a fucking _snake_ Hugo,” Rose hissed. “You know they can’t be trusted.”

“Al’s in Slytherin and you trust him,” Hugo pointed out. “And does your best friend know how you feel about his little sister?”

“Jacob agrees that she can sometimes be a bit… slimy.”

“She is _not_. And snakes aren’t slimy, Merlin, Rose do you even pay attention in Care of Magical Creatures?”

“That isn’t the point Hugo. The point is, that as a Hufflepuff, you have a plus one to the Halloween Party, and I _really_ need it.”

“Rose…” Hugo whined, not wanting to give in, but also lacking the strength to stand up to his overpowering sister.

“Think about it, Hugo. Would Cassi really want to go to a loud, crowded party? Methinks not. So be a good little munchkin and give me your plus one,” Rose said with a smile.

“Fine,” Hugo sighed, passing over the enchanted rubber bracelet that granted access to the Hufflepuff Halloween party. Rose just flashed him a smile and then sauntered away. Not even a thank you. How was this his life?

Rose did have a point, though. Cassidy would have hated the party if she even agreed to go in the first place. It would have been loud and crowded and overwhelming. But that was his only plan to ask out the most perfect girl in the world. Just before he was able to completely slip into despair, however, he caught a glimpse of his cousin James out of the corner of his eye.

“Jamesjamesjamesjamesjamesjames,” he exclaimed as he ran up to his older cousin, completely interrupting the conversation James was having with his friends.

“Yes, Hugo?” James asked with a sigh. It wasn’t an annoyed sigh like Rose’s, though. It was almost amused. Hugo was too relieved to care if he was making a fool out of himself.

“How do you ask out a girl?”

“Well usually, ‘Hey [insert name here], want to go out sometime?’ works for me.”

“Ok, well how do _I_ ask out a girl,” Hugo clarified. James looked him up and down for a second, finger on is chin in exaggerated thought.

“Depends on the girl,” he finally said. Hugo let out a groan of annoyance at his older cousin. James may have been one of the school’s top heartthrobs, but he was still an ass. Or as the git himself would say: an ass with an ass.

“Cassidy Finnigan-Thomas,” Hugo mumbled. The sudden raise of James’ left eyebrow was the only indication that he’d been heard until he spoke once again, finally giving real advice.

"Try something small. With muggle tech finally working maybe show her a podcast? I doubt she’s heard one before, having grown up with two wizard fathers. Pick something she’d like. Listen to it together. Good luck.” Then, he and his friends walked off, picking up their previous conversation without missing a beat. Hugo was just left standing there with more questions than answers. What was a podcast? What kind of podcast would she like? How would he play a podcast without a muggle electricity thing? Why was this so difficult?

Well, one problem at a time. None of this would work without a muggle electricity thing. Luckily, he knew right where to get one. Running to the Hufflepuff dorms, he jumped onto his best friend, Erik Maritz who was lounging on his bed and began to explain the situation.

“SoIwanttoaskCassioutbutRosetookmyextratickettotomorrow’spartyandshewouldn’thavelikeditanywayssoIakedJameswhattodobecasueyouknowJamesheasksoutpeopleallthetimeandhesaidtolistentoapodcastwithherbecauseshe’sprobablyneverheardonebutIdon’tknowwhatapodcastisandIdon’tevenhaveathingtoplayapodcastpleasepleasepleasehelp.”

Erik looked at him for a minute, letting the word vomit that was Hugo’s speech pattern sink in. Then he looked at his best friend, before digging in his pocket and tossing the black rectangle he pulled out at Hugo.

“The password is 0519,” he said. Hugo just stared at the rubber-covered black box in his hand. Erik rolled his eyes and pressed the home button, causing the screen to turn on and Hugo to jump a foot in the air. “Christ, isn’t your mother a muggle born? You think you’d be better at this stuff.”

“Oh please. I bet your mother can barely work one of these, and she’s a muggle,” Hugo scoffed.

“Touché. But it’s really simple. Just swipe right and enter the code. Only shame about these cases is that the fingerprint scanner doesn’t work. It’s like being back in 2013. Still, having working tech is amazing. Luckily for you, that Scorpius kid figured out how to get us wi-fi, so you can download any podcast you think Cassi would like.”

“And how do I do that, exactly?” Hugo asked, brow furrowed as he stared at the multitude of different colorful squares on the screen in his hand.

“Go to Podcasts.” Then after a minute of Hugo not moving. “The one that looks kinda like a person wi-fi symbol combo.” Still nothing. “The purple one with the white ‘i’ and the circles.” Finally, Hugo tapped the proper app, and a list of episodes popped up.

“So what would Cassidy like?” Erik asked, not knowing the answer himself.

“Well, we’ve never actually hung out before, so I don’t really know.”

“So how exactly were you planning on doing this again?”

“I’m not sure. I know she’s funny. But you don’t always get it at first. Like in potions when she tells Professor Treckle that her pop already taught her how to make something and he gets really pale and goes ‘Oh.’ And then she says ‘Yeah, my da wanted to teach me, but pops said he’d be hexed three ways to Sunday if he tried.’ And no one laughs, even though it’s hilarious.”

“Then I’d try something kind of dark but not scary. Serial maybe? Or Welcome to Night Vale? We’re Alive? They all have really good stories too.”

“I don’t know what any of those are,” Hugo reminded his friend.

“Then Google it,” Erik laughed, especially after seeing Hugo look at him like he’d finally lost his marbles. “Hit the circle button. Good. Now go to the internet- the one with a compass on it.”

“Why on EARTH is the internet a compass?” Hugo sighed, exasperated, but complying nonetheless.

“I don’t know. Ask Steve Job’s ghost,” Erik replied, rolling his eyes.

A quick search of the podcasts’ names left him with his favored option: We’re Alive. He feared lot of the humor of Welcome to Night Vale would go over the heads of two kids who grew up in wizard households, and Serial would get too confusing for the same reason. At least with zombies there was some common ground, and laughing at muggle zombies would be good for bonding.

Finally having decided on a course of action, Hugo set off to find Cassidy. His first stop was the Gryffindor common room. He walked right up to the Fat Lady, and said pumpkin peppermint just as assuredly as though he were a Gryffindor himself. She side eyed him, but let him through anyways. He walked straight through the commons room and up the stairs to where he knew his cousin James’ bed was.

Wasting no time in the empty dormitory, Hugo started rifling through James’ trunk, leaving no paper unturned. When that failed, he dug through the nightstand. Once again having no luck, it was moments before he was turning the bed upside down. He was about to move on to the wardrobe when a very loud “What the FUCK Hugo?” resounded through the room.

“You do realize we play Ravenclaw on the first, right?” James asked, looking furious. He was still in his quidditch robes, and based on the mud coated on them, it hadn’t been an easy practice. “I can’t be drilling the team and drawing up plays _and_ worrying about _another_ cousin STEALING MY SHIT.”

“I’m not stealing anything,” Hugo squeaked out. “I just needed to look at the map. Promise. I was going to put it back when I was done.”

James rubbed his face with his hand, getting more mud on it than there already was and felt all of the anger drain out of him. It was Hugo, after all, the least annoying of his cousins. “Its behind the loose bricks under the windowsill.”

Hugo quickly scurried to the window and pried out the three bricks clearly missing the mortar around them. The map came out slightly crinkled, but not too much worse for the wear. One wand point and a solemn swear later, his eyes were viciously scanning the paper for Cassidy’s name.

“Who are you looking for, anyways?” James asked from over his shoulder.

“Cassidy.”

“You are aware stalking is illegal, right?” Hugo jerked his elbow backwards, catching James in the stomach. The older cousin let out a huff, but it was drown out by Hugo’s whine when his elbow came away covered in dry mud. James pointed to a tower of to the side. “She’s in the…owlery?”

Hugo was gone as soon as he confirmed his cousin’s observation, leaving James confused on the bed. Hugo ran the entire way to the owlery, only stopping at the bottom of the steps to catch his breath and not sound so winded. He climbed the steps quickly, but made sure to pace his breathing. The last thing he wanted was to screw this up due to his own panting.

He heard her before he saw her. Well, he heard her Herbology book talking about how to identify gillyweed, and then a frustrated scream followed by a thump, and finally outraged squawk of an upset owl. When he did see her, her face was red, and her shoulders were heaving. Her black lab was the first to notice his presence and let out a low warning bark. Cassidy’s head snapped around towards the door.

“Who’s there,” she demanded, her rage seeming to be redirected at Hugo. He couldn’t see her eyes behind her dark glasses and the slew of glamour charms she kept around them, but it was safe to assume she was glaring at him.

“It’s me. Hugo. Weasley, that is. Um, what are you doing up here?”

“Studying,” she snapped, collecting an herbology book from the ground a few feet away and brushing off the bits of mouse bones stuck to the cover.

“In the owlery?” Hugo pushed.

“Librarians mind when your books talk, owls don’t. What do you want, anyway?” Cassi shot back, putting the book in her bag and then slinging the bag on her shoulder.

“Well, muggle tech works now, and Erik turned me on to this podcast, it’s kind of like a book series you listen to, and I was just wondering if you would want to listen to it together sometime…”

Cassi let out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing from their tense position. She gave him a soft smile and nodded. “Hey,” she said just as Hugo was about to leave with his small victory in tact. “Do you know how to identify gillyweed? Without looking at it that is. The book only talks about how its a grey-green color, but…”

“Not off the top of my head,” Hugo replied. “But I do know how to break into the green house, and we can find out together.”

“Lead the way,” she laughed, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t holding onto her dog’s leash. Hugo took her by her outstretched hand, and carefully led her down the pitch-dark staircase, though she had to keep him from falling on more than one occasion when his footing slipped. It was the blind leading the blind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know they used Safari to Google. Shush.


	7. Nobody Needs to Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check End Notes for Warnings

“You don’t seem to be very interested in my amazing tale,” Scorpius commented. Albus, for his part looked up from his book and fixed his best friend with a bored look.

“No. Please. Go on. I’m fascinated by your very in depth description of fucking four girls at the same time. It’s only gotten better after the first two hours. Please continue. I believe you were at the point where they levitated you,” Al responded in a completely monotone voice.

“Fine. Fine. I get it. I got stuck with the boring Potter. Couldn’t have James-fucks-anything-that-moves Potter or Lily-who’s-life-is-she-going-to-fuck-up-today Potter. No. My best friend just has to be Albus-boring-ass-ambitious-studious-I-don’t-care-about-girls Potter. Would you be more interested if I fucked four guys? Would that make you happy?” Scorpius asked flopping back down on his bed.

“No,” Al replied with a roll of his eyes. “And if you so want to discuss how you spent yesterday afternoon, why not talk to Everett? He’s your cousin. He has to listen to you. Trust me. I know.”

“But Everett isn’t my best friend. Who should be supportive of my escapades, regardless of what they are.”

“I never said I wasn’t supportive,” Albus clarified. “I just said that I’m not interested.”

“Fine. Changing the subject.” Scorpius sighed. “I have about a million wristbands for the Hufflepuff Halloween party. Wanna go? It’s going to be wild.”

“I have no doubt. My cousin Molly organized it in its modern interpretation, and I don’t think she was sober once her seventh year”

“That isn’t an answer,” Scorpius pushed. Jumping from his bed to Al’s, just to physically push him. Which turned to shaking. Which became more violent with every moment Al didn’t answer.

“Ok. Ok, I’ll go. Just don’t-”

“Expect you to drink. I know, I know Mr. Future Minister of Magic. Though, y’know you could probably get elected even if you weren’t top of our class and organizer of four different clubs and pristine in every way just by being Harry Potter’s son. Hell, your dad won on a write in, and he refused.”

“Don’t _remind_ me,” Albus groaned, burying his face in a pillow. “Top position in the Wizarding World _handed_ to him, and he doesn’t take it. He was fucking _master of death itself_ for all of two seconds before he literally _threw it away._ ”

“I feel like I’ve heard this rant before. Like it’s extremely familiar. Almost as though I hear it _literally all the time._ ”

“Oh, shove off,” Al shot, and for good measure, he literally shoved Scorpius off of the bed. There was a pained groan from the floor, and Scorpius didn’t pop back up like he normally would. Worried, Al leaned over the bed to check on him and saw Scorpius with his eyes clenched shut and his teeth grit. “Shit. Merlin. I’m sorry,” Al rushed as he scrambled off of the bed to help his friend up.

“It’s nothing,” Scorpius hissed. Al didn’t look convinced ad he helped the blond boy up, one eyebrow completely disappearing behind his dark “I’m just a bit sore. I’m fine really.”

“Well I guess you must have had quite a time setting up everything for the muggle tech…” Al trailed off, suddenly remembering something Professor Aribatte had mentioned in astronomy, and then his look of concern turned into a vicious glare. “Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, tell me you didn’t.”

“Tell you I didn’t what?” Scorpius asked, feigning ignorance, but the pale shade his face had turned combined with the way his eyes kept darting towards the door gave him away.

“Tell me you didn’t do all of that physical labor while you were already in extreme pain,” Al spit through grit teeth.

“I didn’t do all of that physical labor while I was already in extreme pain,” Scorpius responded sheepishly, the end rising up like a question. Albus let out an annoyed huff through his nose, and began to drag Scorpius out of their dormitory and through the castle.

“W-where are we going?” Scorpius asked, struggling to keep up with Al’s pace. He may have had much longer legs than the middle Potter, but when Al wanted to, he could go _fast_.

“The medical wing,” Al responded, sounding not the least bit out of breath, which was really unfair. At the news, Scorpius started to dig his heels in. He didn’t know when Al got so strong, but he was dragging him along like it was nothing. As the door to the hospital wing, Scorpius had a moment of crisis and plopped down in the middle of the hallway. Undeterred, Albus continued to drag his friend down the hallway. By this point, the two had drawn a crowd. Scorpius was desperately trying to grab onto the onlooker’s legs and failing miserably. Despite Scorpius’ best efforts, he was eventually forced in front of Doctor Boot, though he still refused to get off of the floor.

“Mr. Potter, why is Mr. Malfoy currently laying on the floor of the infirmary?” the healer asked with a sigh, as he exited the storeroom.

“He is injured, but he’s too stubborn to get help. I therefore made him come, because I’m the responsible on, and he’s being a baby about it,” Al answered.

“Am not,” Scorpius whined from the floor, not helping his case in the slightest.

“Mr. Malfoy, are you injured?” Doctor Boot asked patiently.

“No. I’m just a little sore, and Al over reacted.”

“I did not. He has severe joint pain and his skin is raw whenever his sweater rides up,” Al explained.

“I have pain medication for that,” Scorpius pointed out.

“That’s odd,” Dr. Boot interrupted. “I don’t remember seeing anything in your medical records about pain medication.”

“It’s muggle,” Scorpius clarified, still spread on the floor like a starfish. “Demerol.”

“That’s an opioid, Mr. Malfoy,” Dr. Boot said slowly, still trying to process the fact that one of his students regularly took an opioid for pain and hoping the boy on the floor would laugh and say it was all a joke.

“Well, it’s effective,” Scorpius responded with a shrug, not understanding what the big deal was. It was just what the muggle doctor his parents insisted he go to gave him. It worked. Everything was fine.

“How often do you take Demerol?” Dr. Boot asked, trying to get a better idea of the situation. Opioids were addictive, after all.

“Only when it gets really bad. Maybe once every three weeks or so.” Dr. Boot’s shoulders relaxed as the nervous tension dissipated. At least he wasn’t addicted, then.

“And how much do you take?”

“It depends. Usually six pills a day?” Scorpius answered, brow furrowed. He didn’t want to mention that in the past couple of days he’d been taking almost double that. On top of caffeine pills.

“Well, if you’re managing it, I don’t see how I can help,” Dr. Boot sighed. Al looked between him and the boy on the floor incredulously. Then, he added, “That is, if you can get up off of the floor.”

Scorpius stared at him. He’d gotten quite comfortable on the floor, despite the uneven texture of the stone. Lifting his shoulders slightly, Scorpius quickly clenched his eyes and grit his teeth as a stab of pain went through him. He tried again, lifting his hips first this time, but was met with even more pain. Letting a whine escape through his gritted teeth, Scorpius finally sank defeated against the floor.

Realizing the boy’s failure, Dr. Boot gestured for Albus to help him get the blond boy onto a cot. With Dr. Boot managing Scorpius’s shoulders and Al taking his long legs, they maneuvered him onto the nearest bed.

“Damn, Scorp, how are you skinny as a broom and heavy as a whale?” Albus let out in a huff.

“Don’t blame me for you being weak, Al,” Scorpius replied with a groan. “You’d be able to lift me with one arm if you took after your brother and became chaser king extraordinaire.”

“Take it back,” Al said with a smile, one hand loosely forming into a fist. “Take it back or I swear you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“Boys, boy, boys,” Dr. Boot cut in. “Let’s not maim each other. It’s much more work for me, and I really don’t feel like it right now. Now, Scorpius, I’m going to need to take a closer look at your joints, so if you’d please remove your sweater.”

“Um, yeah. I totally would, doc, but I kinda can’t move my arms much right now.”

“Ok. Then Mr. Potter, please remove Mr. Malfoy’s sweater and trousers,” Dr. Boot said absently as he was digging through books, looking for one on human anatomy. Noting Al’s hesitation, he quickly added, “I was not asking, Mr. Potter.”

With a sigh, Al peeled the dark grey sweater from his best friend, mumbling apologies when he saw Scorpius wince. He took his time, trying to spare his friend pain. That was until Scorpius hissed “Goddamnit, Al, like a Band-Aid.” At which point he took it the rest of the way off with one quick tug, which caused the boy on the bed to briefly cry out. Then it was on to his friend’s jeans. He fumbled with the button, but only because he’d never unbuttoned jeans from this angle. That is to say, he’d never unbuttoned jeans while they were on legs that were not his own. Like with the sweater, he pulled the jeans off quickly, not jostling Scorpius as much in the process due to the straight pull.

Scorpius, divested of his sweater and jeans, lay on the cot in only a black t-shirt and grey boxer briefs. There was an outbreak of sweat of his forehead that his fringe had begun to stick to, and his jaw was clenched. The last of his medication had definitely worn off, and while the pain wasn’t as bad as it would have been two days ago, it was still absolutely awful.

“We’re going to need to get the undershirt off, too,” Dr. Boot noted, having looked up briefly from the muggle anatomy book he was looking through.

“No,” Scorpius suddenly shouted, eyes bulging out of his head and darting nervously around.

Al just sighed, suddenly flashing back though years of lending Scorpius undershirts and Scorpius showering in the middle of the night and for some reason never seeing his friend’s torso. The boy would walk around without pants on just as often as not, but no one would ever find him without a shirt.

“Sorry. Forgot I was dealing with the shy prince of Slytherin,” Al said, turning his back. “Better?”

“Al, you should leave,” Scorpius said carefully, trying not to let his voice waver. “I’ll show the doc, but you should go back to the dorms or the library to study. We have that transfiguration practical tomorrow, remember?”

Albus looked over his shoulder to his best friend, concerned, but not wanting to push. “Come find me when you’re done alright?” he asked. Before he exited, he quickly walked over to Scorpius and pressed a reaffirming hand against his shoulder. Then, he left without a word.

Dr. Boot distractedly peeled off Scorpius’ shirt, still mostly looking at the pages of human muscle laid out in the book in front of him. When he was about to start trying to work out the extent of the joint damage, he stopped short. His mouth open and his eyes wide, he gaped at the boy on the bed, while Scorpius squirmed uncomfortably under the gaze.

“Who…?” Was all the doctor was able to make out, still staring at the expanse of flesh in front of him. In general, it was deathly pale, like the rest of the boy, but that didn’t do any justice to the gruesome nature of the skin. It was crisscrossed with scars. Some long, deep, puckered slashes that spanned the boy’s torso, others small splotches of poorly healed burns. Both clearly the work of a wand. Also scattered around were smaller scars, both lines and spots, not as clearly from magic, but obviously not self-inflicted.

“It doesn’t matter,” Scorpius growled through grit teeth. “I just need something for the pain.”

“As soon as I see the extent of damage on your back,” Dr. Boot mumbled.

“Please. Don’t,” Scorpius choked out, tears now flowing down his cheeks, not from pain but from embarrassment. The doctor was already rolling him over, and he couldn’t hide his gasp when he saw the boy’s back.

“Your father…?” Dr. Boot breathed out.

“No. He’s dead,” Scorpius sobbed. “He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead.” He chanted it like a mantra through his tears and snot. The cries were barely heard by Dr. Boot who couldn’t manage to tear his eyes from the marred flesh in front of him the same way some people can’t stop watching a car crash. There was a circle of old, long, thin scars creating a hurricane of damage on Scorpius’ back. In the eye of the hurricane, completely undamaged and clear as day, the image of a dark mark was branded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Terry Boot never got a medical license. But he did get really close, so they gave him the title anyways. At least in the wizarding world.
> 
> Warning: Past child abuse


	8. It Takes Two

“I swear to god, if you don’t get this goddamn thing off of me, or you’re going to start doing your own potions homework,” Lucy hissed, squirming vigorously to break the grip of the venomous tentacula and failing miserably. Louis, for his part, was running around with pruning shears, trying to cut it away without taking one of his cousin’s arms as well. “You have until three, Lou. One. Two. Thr-“

“It’s off. It’s off,” Louis panted as the vines fell away from Lucy, who fell to her knees. It took a moment before she felt like her ribcage wasn’t going to collapse and her head rested firmly on her shoulders again instead of being lodged in the clouds.

“This is the LAST time I’m EVER helping you tend plants,” Lucy said between breaths. Louis had enough decency to look sheepish, but probably not sheepish enough for almost killing his cousin.

“But if I don’t finish ALL of the tending Neville will take away my key to the greenhouse again. And I’d be sad, but I’m not the one who steals plants for certain illicit potions, am I?” Louis replied casually, turning to water some mandrakes. “We have a working business model, Lu. We can’t afford to rock the boat, and that means making sure Neville trusts me to take care of the plants competently, so he gives me the key.”

“Well, we can’t sell potions if the potion maker is dead,” Lucy pointed out, crossing her arms. “So let’s try not to kill her.”

“Speaking of our potionmistress, what is she brewing up these days?”

“The usual. Memory enhancers and Draught of Peace, since exams are coming up. Medium strength love potion. Acne treatment. And some Felix Felicis and Veritaserum just finished this morning. Not for sale, of course.”

“What about things for the party tomorrow?” Louis asked with a glint in his eye. In response, Lucy pivoted away from the flowers she’s been examining and stormed over to him, only stopping when their noses were centimeters apart. Louis, quite frankly, was terrified. When Lucy got angry (which was rare) she looked like a taller, blonder version of Rose, which on its own left terrible, awful connotations.

“I have told you a million times, Lou,” Lucy hissed at her cousin and best friend. “I am a _professional_. I will _not_ make anything hallucinogenic, or even dizzying draught for that matter, just so people can get high at a party.”

“Ok, ok, ok,” Louis said, taking a step back and finding himself up against the cool glass of the greenhouse wall. “I’m just saying that if we expanded our market, we’d be able to bring in a lot more money.”

“And I’m saying that if you don’t stop bringing it up, Vic and Dom are going to be getting a lot more money this Christmas. Am I being clear?” Lucy chimed sweetly, her eyes still hard. Louis just gulped and nodded. “Good. We should probably be heading to dinner soon. I’m starving.”

“But I need to herbivicus the gillyweed, because we gave some Hugo and that girl, and the stores can’t look low, and the fanged geranium still needs to be repotted,” Louis whined, gesturing to the pots on the table.

“Will Professor Longbottom skin you alive if you put that stuff off until tomorrow?” Lucy pushed. Her growling stomach wanted food, sooner rather than later.

“Well, no one really uses the gillyweed that often, unless it’s Professor Vector making gillywater, so I guess they wouldn’t notice. And the fifth years don’t need the fanged geraniums until next week, so I highly doubt Neville will notice if I just push them out of the way…”

“Good. Then it’s decided,” Lucy chirped. She grabbed both of the book bags by her foot, holding the smaller one out for Louis to take. The two made their way back to the castle in a comfortable silence. The setting sun reflected off of the lake and their hair, temporarily turning it from its normal blond a more appropriate Weasley red. Lucy found herself drawing her jacket closer around her to fight off the autumn chill and wishing sh’ed opted for jeans instead of a skirt that morning. She started walking a bit faster to get to the warmth of the castle quicker, and Louis just smiled and rolled his eyes at his cousin as he fell into pace beside her once again.

The Great Hall was already packed by the time they got there. The sound of hundreds of kids talking, laughing, and shouting reverberated off of the stone walls, making it ten times louder than it already was. The founders had apparently decided when building the castle that the one room that would house pretty much the entire student body at one time would have great acoustics. It was a poor decision.

Lucy and Louis managed to squeeze themselves in at the end of the Ravenclaw table, and Louis immediately began piling food on his plate. Tacos and burritos and rice and beans and enchiladas and tostadas all topped off with a flood of hot sauce. It was Mexican night, a night much beloved by all students, and probably the reason the Great Hall was so packed. Lucy was about to start assembling her own burrito from the ingredients placed alongside the already made food, when she noticed her cousin standing behind Louis.

With a sigh she put down her plate and asked, “What do you need now, Rose?”

“Why do you always assume I need something, my lovely cousin and favorite potioneer? Can’t I just come spend some time with my cousins?” Rose replied, her eyes too wide and innocent and her smile too sweet.

“Not when you compliment me like that you don’t. So what is it?” Lucy asked again, not really minding the request as much as the fact the request was keeping her from eating.

Rose dropped the nice act in the blink of an eye and made her way around the table to Lucy. She practically draped herself over the blonde before whispering in her ear, “You wouldn’t happen to have any Veritaserum I could borrow, do you?”

Rolling her eyes, Lucy groped around in her bag until her hand grasped around a small vial. Normally, she would question what the potion was going to be used for and caution against reckless use of powerful magic, but she was starving and sustenance rated higher on her list of priorities than morals at the moment. She slipped the bottle of liquid truth into her cousin’s hand and was rewarded with a beaming smile before Rose kissed her cheek and flitted away.

“You actually gave it to her,” Louis said, shocked, around a mouthful of taco.

“What can I say? I’m hungry,” Lucy shrugged, beginning to assemble a burrito. “And it’s not like Veritaserum is the _most_ dangerous thing I brew.”

“Who do you think she’s going to slip it to?”

“It’s none of my business. It’s probably for some silly party game.” With a roll of her eyes, Lucy bit into her burrito, softly sighing as the food hit her tongue. House elves sure know how to cook. It was better than her mother’s attempts anyways, not that that was hard. After the Raw Scallop Debacle of 2013, which had the entire family puking for days, and the Kitchen Fire of 2017 that had almost spread to the rest of the house, Audrey Weasley was not permitted to cook for good reason.

“Speaking of silly party games, I snagged two wristbands by reviving a third year’s man-eating shrub. Want to go?” His eyes looked hopeful, but that was quickly extinguished by Lucy’s cold gaze.

“Are you insane?” Lucy asked, her brows furrowed. “We have a game on the first. We cannot be out all night at a party.”

“But you _know_ half of the Gryffindor team will be there,” Louis whined.

“And that is why we will beat there sorry asses when they’re all horribly hungover,” Lucy chirped with a smile. “Besides, I don’t like crowds, and it will be impossible to move. I swear they make the venue smaller every year.”

With a sigh, Louis returned to shoveling food into his mouth. It wasn’t like he was expecting a different answer. Even without the game, Lucy probably wouldn’t have wanted to go. She would have suffered through it for his sake, though. They’d gone every year for the past five years, and while he always had a blast, she never did.

“Why does Lou look like someone just killed his puppy?” Liz asked, sliding into the bench beside Lucy.

“Hi Liz,” Louis mumbled around a mouthful of food. He really did try to keep his eyes from rolling, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t fail spectacularly.

“Be nice, Lou,” Lucy scolded her other half. “And to answer your question, Liz, he’s pouting because we have a game on Monday so we can’t go to the Hufflepuff Halloween party.”

“I’m guessing that wasn’t your idea, huh Louis?” Liz smirked as Louis shot her a glare. “Y’know Lu, even if you do go, you guys will probably still win. Those Gryffindor prats go way harder than you. Plus your hangover cure is a miracle. Speaking of…”

“You really are unbelievable,” Lucy scoffed, as her hand reached obligingly into her bag. When she dropped the vial into Liz’s hand, she was rewarded by a playful kiss on the cheek. “I swear between you and my cousins I’ll be out of brew by the end of the week.”

“Hey,” Liz whined, as she gently rammed into Lucy’s shoulder. “You can’t compare my consumption of your fine goods with that of the entire ungodly hoard of your cousins.”

“Hey,” Louis interjected, offended. “I’ll have you know I was once an angel in a Christmas pageant. It doesn’t get more holy than me.”

“I wasn’t talking about you, Lou,” Liz corrected herself. “Just the other million an a half cousins you have running around. Which returns me to my original point: there is no way in hell that I use as much potion as all of your cousins combined.”

“My cauldrons would have to disagree.”

“Well at least I always pay you,” Liz smiled, her hand creeping up Lucy’s thigh and brushing under her skirt. “Can’t say that of your cousins, can you?”

Lucy tried to keep her expression neutral, though her face had turned bright red. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen as much as a knut from you,” she said, trying to keep her voice even and failing. Liz’s hand kept its slow course, as her smile grew and Lucy’s cool façade began to fail more and more.

“You alright, Lu?” Louis asked, concerned that his cousin’s face was fire-engine red and her eyes were dangerously close to popping out of her head.

“She’s fine,” Liz assured him. The hand not dangerously close to Lucy’s panties reaching across the table to snatch a churro from his plate. “But I feel awful. I must not have been paying Lu as well as I thought. My wallet’s in my room though. I’ll just run and get it.”

“I’ll come with you,” Lucy almost shouted when the hand that had been toying with the hem of her underwear suddenly disappeared. Liz’s smile was equal parts self-satisfied and predatory. Lucy grabbed her by the lecherous hand, and all but dragged the older girl from the Great Hall and down to the Slytherin common rooms.

Louis watched the girls leave, slightly confused by their sudden departure. Lucy, who had been dying of starvation if her complaints were to be believed, had left half of her food on her plate. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, Lucy and Liz suddenly running off and disappearing on him, but he couldn’t say it was something he would ever get used to. Every time the Slytherin keeper stole away his best friend, his stomach would drop to his feet, and he couldn’t stop cursing the girl who could so easily steal away his other half.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup. Nothing in this is gay. Not in the least bit.


	9. Big Fun

“Rose, does this dress make me look like a hooker?” Emma asked, doing a 360-degree turn in a dark blue dress that fell to mid thigh.

“No, but that make up does,” Rose answered, glancing at the heavy eye shadow and bright lipstick with a look of disdain. “Might want to tone it down a bit Ems.”

Emma made a distressing noise somewhere between a whine and a growl before stomping back over to her dresser and beginning to take her makeup off a tad more violently than normal. Rose rolled her eyes at her friend’s dramatics, but the dark eye makeup and red lip had looked almost clownish against Emma’s practically translucent skin. Turning back to her own mirror, Rose finished applying the last of her dark red lipstick, checking to make sure none got on her teeth.

Satisfied that her teeth were still as white as ever, she popped her lips and smiled. Her hair framed her face in loose red waves, and the barely noticeable makeup around her eyes brought out the flecks of green in her honey-colored irises. It was a far cry from the cat-eye and bold, colorful eye shadow she usually preferred at parties, but tonight wasn’t about her. It was about the future of the entire wizarding world and preventing the rise of another dark lord. Being unable to weasel out of Al the kind of girl Scorpius preferred, she had to balance the line between demure and dangerous with minimal makeup accompanied by a tight black dress just this side of too short that would turn her father’s face an intriguing shade of red if he ever knew she owned it, let alone saw her wear it. Top it all off with a pair of cute black heels that she had calculated would make her taller than most guys, so they would be too intimidated to talk to her, but just Scorpius’ height, so he had no choice but to look at her. It was a foolproof plan, and she was prepared to execute it.

When Emma turned around, her previous dark smoky eye replaced with a much lighter cerulean eye shadow that offset her dress stunningly, and instead of the garish red lipstick, a light pink shade graced her lips, which didn’t clash like the red had with the rest of her blue tones. Her eyes darted around nervously, as if she was expecting to be shot down on this look too, but a quick nod from Rose turned her watery smile into a beam that looked much more at home on her face. Ever since her mom left, Emma had had to grow up in a house full of boys, with no one to teach her girl stuff. Rose had therefore done her best to teach her friend and by her estimation, it was working quite well. Especially the lesion in walking in heels, if the way Emma bolted down the stairs was any indication.

In the common room waiting for them was Jacob dressed in dark jeans and a grey shirt and with his mass of dark curls combed into something that could be described as tame for once. Emma’s eyes lit up at the sight of him, and she began to vault down the stairs even more quickly, which Rose didn’t think was possible. She just rolled her eyes at her friend’s antics. Emma had had a crush on Jacob since second year. Jacob didn’t really feel one way or the other about Emma, but if she asked, he’d say yes. And Rose, in her optimal position as Jacob’s best friend and Emma’s roommate thought they would be a cute couple. That is, if either of them ever made a fucking move.

“What are you all dressed up for?” Rose asked. “I thought little Mr. Heartthrob couldn’t get a band.”

“Well I got it from your cousin, actually,” Jacob replied, raising and shaking the wrist with the orange bracelet around it. The only thing Rose saw, however, was red.

“That _whore_ ,” she screeched. “She doesn’t give her plus one to her own _flesh_ and _blood_ , but she’ll give it to any _fucking_ guy who asks. I asked I was even _sweet_ and _cute_ when I asked. And what do I get? _Fucking nothing.”_

“I MEANT AL,” Jacob yelled in order to be heard over Rose’s rant. Rose immediately stopped pacing, and her face went from contorted rage to one of contemplation to one of disappointment as she registered what Jacob had said.

“Really? Shira had been working up the courage for months to give him that. I hope she doesn’t notice that he’s not there,” Rose said at a much lower volume.

“The President of the Al Potter fan club not notice he’s missing? This is the same girl who stalked him for a year and a half, right?” Emma chimed in from where she was standing next to Jacob. Rose tried to ignore how in her heels, the hem of Emma’s skirt landed right at Jacob’s eye level, and how her positioning was probably purposeful.

“Don’t make it sound worse than it was. She was a little star struck and followed him around like a puppy for a year. She was twelve. It happens. She politely stopped when Al asked her to,” Rose shrugged. Jacob and Emma just looked at her, but decided not to press the issue.

“Well we’d better get going. Don’t want to be late,” Emma chirped to break the slightly awkward silence that had enveloped the three. She lead the march, practically skipping out of the common room, with Jacob following her, trying not to look up her skirt by accident, and Rose bringing up the rear.

The trio made their way through the castle. The only noise they made was the clicking of the girls’ shoes on the stone floor. Slipping past prefects, they made their way to the second floor girl’s restroom. Moaning Myrtle was absent, probably already at the party to which she had a standing invite. It was the easiest way to ensure she wouldn’t give them away for using her bathroom. They made their way to the sink with the snake engraved on it. Once they were standing in front of it, their bracelets began to hiss in unison, and the sink slid down to reveal the pipe.

A quick charm on the girls’ shoes and Jacob’s wheelchair had them floating down the pipe without a hair out of place. The corridor to the main entrance was covered in splashed of glow-in-the-dark paint, which guided their way. The giant door leading to the party was also covered in glow paint and opened easily with some additional hissing from their bracelets

As soon as the door opened, the group was nearly deafened by the music playing. The chamber had been charmed years ago by Molly herself so that no noise or light could escape and give away the party. With nowhere else to go, all sound and light was bounced around inside until it eventually dissipated. Perks of this included incredible acoustics and the ability to get good lighting the entire chamber with only glow sticks, which lead to an amazing technicolor effect.

Letting the door slam behind them, the three were immediately split up by the crowd, which was always just a tad bigger than the fire code would have regulated if anyone even cared to give a fire code to a secret room no one was supposed to have access to. Rose just shrugged it off, assuming her friends would be fine and knowing she would have ditched them anyways to execute her plan. She made her way over to the drink table covered with disposable cups filled with multicolored liquids. She chose one that appeared to be teal, but with the colored lighting could have easily been clear.

Scanning the crowd, which was fairly easy considering she was taller than most of them, Rose failed to see an annoying blond towering above everyone as well. She began to make her way through the mob of dancing teens, glad the cups were only half-filled so she didn’t have to worry about spilling it all over herself when people invariably ran into her. Rose figured he was just running late, and so she tried to enjoy the party. She chatted politely with girls from her divination class, she danced with Emma when fate had them reunite, she at least sipped one drink of every color, liking the purple one the best and subsequently downing three of them. All the while, Rose kept an eye out for white-blonde hair and steel grey eyes. She was on at least her fifth lap of the party, losing her patience, and beginning to regret her choice of shoes when she ran into Everett Zabini.

“Hey Everett,” Rose yelled to get his attention. “Have you seen my cousin?”

The Slytherin boy looked at her skeptically, but decided to answer anyways. “Him and my cousin had a night in. It was really last minute, too. Albus just said Scorp wanted me to have his bracelet, since they weren’t going to come.” With that he turned away, and a new plan began to form in Rose’s mind. A surprisingly good plan, as well, given her level of inebriation.

Rose clumsily slipped the Veritaserum out of her bra where she’d hidden it, and uncapped the vial. Due to her height, she quickly located Everett again standing by the basilisk skeleton and made her way through the crowd towards him. She waited until he was distracted talking to a guy she didn’t recognize to make her way past him, purposely bumping into him as to better spill a splash of the potion into his drink. Never taking her eyes off of the Slytherin boy, Rose started dancing with a group of girls she recognized, but she couldn’t tell you their names for the life of her. Once she was sure he’d taken a drink, she stalked over, like a lion circling its prey.

“Hey, Everett,” she said with a predatory smile. “I forgot to ask, what’s the password to your common room again?”

“Jacobson’s,” he replied, his eyes widening with incredulity as his mind registered what his mouth had just said. Rose just gave him her sweetest smile before she walked away.

On her way to the secondary exit of the chamber, the beat to the music suddenly and drastically changed. Then, a loud, deep voice boomed, “Let there be light,” and suddenly both the bass and hundreds of pieces of reflective paper dropped. They reflected the colored lights, making the room feel surreal as everyone silently stood still and watched in drunken amazement. A few attendees noticed the squares of paper dissolve into their drinks, before the voice reappeared and yelled, “And may your cups. Runneth. OVEEEEEEERRRRRRRRR.” Suddenly, the drinks of everyone in attendance began frothing and foaming and exploding, shooting arches of colored foam in to the air and drenching all of the partygoers. No one seemed to mind, however. The foam and liquid just added to their fun.

Rose slipped down the hallway that led to the back entrance on the far side of the castle next to the forbidden forest, quite literally due to the slick floor, and landed hard on her left hip. Groaning, and trying to wipe off the grime that stuck to her wet dress, she slowly limped towards her destination. It wasn’t long before she was shaking so much she was practically vibrating, as the already chilly temperature had dropped while she was in the party. The air only got colder as she left the enclosed corridor and came out onto the open grass, where the wind cut straight through her. Slipping her shoes off and gripping them in her left hand, Rose ran as fast as she could towards the castle and warmth. She slipped a couple of times on the slick grass, and succeeded in cutting her knee, though she paid it no mind.

Once inside the castle, Rose made her way down to the dungeons, casting a quick sobering charm on herself on the way. Because she didn’t actually know where the Slytherin common room was, she simply wandered the halls saying the password repeatedly. It only took about fifteen minutes of that before a passageway opened on her left. No one was in the common room, due to the late, or rather early hour, which didn’t bother Rose a bit. It was easier that way.

Seeing a doorway to her right she walked down the hallway, seeing three doors on the left, three on the right, and one at the end. Based on the deep voices she heard through the doors, it was a safe bet that this was the boys’ dormitories. She paused outside of each door, trying to hear inside. When she got to the last door on the left, she could clearly hear her cousin inside, talking, though it seemed as though he was talking to himself. Proud that she’d been able to navigate a foreign place so well, Rose wasted no time barging in.

“I still don’t understand why stealing the moon is such a great - MERLIN ROSE WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? AND WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?”

Rose took that moment to look at herself. Her soaked dress was covered in dirt and grass from her falls on the lawn and clung to her like a second skin. Considering what it was soaked with, she probably reeked of alcohol, and though she’d water-proofed her makeup before leaving, she wouldn’t be surprised if it was smeared all over her face by this point. Her feet were bare and covered in tiny cuts from rocks and twigs. She was a mess. Al took a deep breath and got up from where he was sitting on the bed next to Scorpius to lead her by the wrist through a side door.

Rose found herself in a pristine white shower room, almost blinding after having been in the dim, murky light afforded by the Slytherin living quarters. Al didn’t look mad, which she guessed was a plus. He looked tired and annoyed, which she could work with.

“What on earth happened to you, Rose?” Al reiterated with a resigned sigh.

“The Halloween party was wild. Which you would know if you had _been_ there,” Rose replied, her tone voicing her displeasure.

“Look, we were going to, honest. But the Scorp went to see Dr. Boot, and he’s been weird ever since. He’s been doing nothing but watching old muggle cartoons. I’ve been staying with him so he’s not alone, and let me tell you those things are _strange_. So I’ve been up to my eyeballs weird, and then _you_ walk in reeking of vodka and looking like you just walked through a hurricane, and I am _done._ Take a shower and then get out. The last thing Scorpius needs is you around right now.”

Al didn’t give her a second look as he stalked out of the shower room and let the door slam behind him. Rose, despite still wanting to execute her plan, found that a shower was too tempting to resist. Stripping, she turned the water as hot as it would go and let it run over her. After a while, how long she wasn’t sure, the room was filled with steam and she turned the water off and stepped out from under the spray.

Her dress was still in a ball on the floor where she’d left it, but next to it was a neatly pile of folded pajamas. Rose pulled on the pajamas, not wanting to put on her wet underwear. She assumed they were Al’s, but they didn’t seem like something he would wear. He was more the type to have matching pajama sets than the mismatched oversized t-shirt and sweat pants. Plus, the shirt had the distinctive black and yellow striped patter of the Wasps, and Al was conditioned to be a die-hard Harpies fan since birth.

The truth didn’t hit her until she tried to take a step and nearly tripped over the pant leg. She was _taller_ than Al. His pajamas should not be tripping her. The blood drained out of her face as she realized she was wearing Scorpius _fucking_ Malfoy’s clothes. Rose stormed back into the bedroom, about to give Al a piece of her mind, only to find him passed out on his own bed. Knowing Al was ruthless when woken up before he chose to, her anger found a much more familiar target in the form of Scorpius.

“What the _fuck_ is this about, Malfoy?” Rose hissed, gesturing to the outfit she was wearing.

“You clothes were soaked. Al’s would have been to short. I gave you some of mine,” the boy said simply. His voice lacked expression, and his eyes just stared emptily at her, the light from the screen accentuating the dark bags underneath them.

“Why? What kind of scheme are you playing at?” Rose questioned, taking a step closer so that she towered over him. Scorpius just shut his eyes and breathed out heavily through his nose.

“There is no scheme, Rose. What will it take to make you believe me?”

Rose hesitated. It was a questioned she hadn’t expected. Her gut reaction was nothing. There was no evidence to change her mind. But then the chastising voice of her mother entered her head, reminding her that flexibility and the ability to change are admirable qualities. It was a lecture she’d never had directed at her, but had heard given to her father dozens of times. Not knowing what to say she countered, “Why would a pure-blood make muggle tech work without an anterior motive? It’s illogical.”

Logic. There was a line of reasoning her mother would be proud of. Feeling quite smug with herself, she was awaiting his answer, when he opened his eyes, somehow looking sadder than before. “I’m not the one who made it work. I just mass produced and distributed her invention.”

“Who the fuck are you talking about, because general consensus seems to be _you_ invented those cases.” Rose narrowed her eyes, preparing herself for whatever lie he would try to feed her.

His eyes closed once more, and his head fell gently against the headboard. “Gem,” he breathed out, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“Who?” Rose pressed. Scorpius sat back up and gave her an irritated glare.

“Gemini Malfoy. My sister.” Rose thought she’d had to have heard that wrong. Everyone knew Draco and Astoria only has one pompous little brat of an offspring. They certainly didn’t have a daughter.

“Hate to break it to you, but you don’t _have_ a sister,” Rose replied, raising her voice as if that would make him realize she was right.

“You’re right. I don’t. Not anymore.” Scorpius looked down at his lap, and Rose almost felt bad for him. To hide this emotion, which made her doubt many of her deeply held convictions, she scoffed. Which was obviously the wrong thing to do especially when she heard a growl come from the next bed over.

Al was standing and looking murderous. The glare he fixed at Rose sent chills down her spine. Hell hath no fury like an Al awakened early. Knowing him, he’d been awake for a while but needed time to gather energy to unleash his wrath. Picking his wand up off of the nightstand, he pointed it straight at her.

“Goddamnit, Rose, his sister fucking _died_. Can you not be a decent person for two fucking seconds? Is this what you’ve devolved to? I’m so goddamn tired of you attacking my best friend for no fucking reason other than you’re are a bigoted stubborn git. You know what? _Petrificus totalus._ ”

Rose was caught off guard when her arms and legs snapped together, she lost her balance, and landed face first on Scorpius’ bed, though she really shouldn’t have been considering Al had spat the spell straight at her face. Al was quite pleased with himself and his full body-bind charm, and decided his work was done before crawling back under the covers and passing out.

Scorpius, for his part had no idea what to do. He had a sleeping best friend and a furious Rose Weasley, not that he didn’t have plenty of experience with both of those things. Sighing, he got out of bed and walked towards Rose. He lifted her, and she made upset grunting noises through her closed teeth that he paid no mind to. Setting her down gently on the bed, he maneuvered the covers over her and propped her head under the pillows. Rose’s eyes were wide and followed him nervously, not knowing what to expect. Scorpius just slid under the covers and set the movie on his laptop to play from the beginning.

“This is my favorite movie, y’know,” Scorpius said in a low voice as a pixelated videogame showed on the screen, only to break into smoother animation. “Gem showed it to me when I was little. We had to go all the way to London to see it though.” He chuckled softly, as though remembering something funny. Rose looked at him as best she could out of the corner of her eye. His hair was tinted green from the moonlight filtering through the lake and window. “You want to know why a pure-blood would make muggle tech work? Well, Gem was a squib. A very stubborn squib. And my parents sent her to a mugggle boarding school outside of Wimborne, because that’s what you’re supposed to do. Anyways, instead of allowing herself to be forced out of the Wizarding World, she forced her way in. She worked tirelessly until she found a way to marry technology and magic. And then-”

On the last word his voice broke and tears started rolling down his cheeks. When he cried, he was completely silent, Rose noted. He didn’t even move his shoulders much. It was the compete opposite of how she cried: loud and red-faced and heaving. Wiping away his tears, he looked at her for the first time since he’d started talking.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I guess it’s nice when you let me get a word in edgewise. Look, it’s fine if you hate me. Just hate _me_ and not who I’m supposed to be. Because I didn’t even want to be a – what do you call us – a ‘filthy snake.’ Do you even remember our sorting? I was a hatstall. I fought that thing tooth and nail to not be in Slytherin for fifteen minutes. I begged and I threatened and I reasoned for any other house, but I lost in the end. And now I’m here. Damn, we missed the beginning. I’ll rewind for you.”

He leaned over the computer to put the movie back to the beginning again, and once again. Rose paid attention to the screen, if only to not pay attention to the boy next to her. Being from a magic family, she didn’t have much experience with videogames, so she couldn’t follow all of the references, but she understood the plot perfectly. It was obvious why this was Scorpius’ favorite movie.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Looooooooooooooong Chapter  
> 2) Of course they have the Halloween party in the creepiest place in the castle  
> 3) Scorpius' favorite movie is hands down Wreck-It Ralph and you can't fight me on this


	10. Into the Woods

Rox awoke the next morning at seven o’clock, just like she always did so she could get extra work in before everyone else was up, despite having spent her night partying extra hard to impress Justin. She wasn’t so much hung over as still drunk, which she was thankful for, as a headache would have ruined her morning for sure. Rox downed half of the bottle of sobering potion she’d had Lucy craft for her, wincing at the taste of rotten eggs and vinegar, but knowing that it meant no hangover until she went drinking again. As she got to her feet, the crick in her back that came from passing out against the rib of a giant snake skeleton popped, and the vertigo she was expecting from the sudden change in position didn’t appear. 

“Wha’ you doin’?” Justin mumbled with a groan. Rox jumped, not realizing she’d woken him when she’d stood.

“Just up,” Rox whispered back, trying not to wake up the other partygoers who had also not made it back to the dorms the night before. “Might go grab breakfast. You know the house elves always go all-out the morning after Halloween.”

Justin nodded, but the motion made him wince. Sighing, Rox tried to hand him the rest of the sobering potion, but with his eyes still closed, he didn’t see her gesture. Once the bottle was forcibly placed in his had, he raised it to his mouth to take a swig, but the smell permeating from the bottle had it practically thrown back at her before it could even make contact with his lips.

“Stop being such a baby,” Rox hissed, moving so that she was on her knees straddling the Gryffindor boy, a position not unlike the one they’d taken up in one of the side hallways the night before. “This is for your own good.”

Opening his jaw with one hand, Rox poured the rank liquid into his mouth. Once the taste registered, Justin’s eyes flew open and he tried to spit it out, but Rox’s hands were already covering his mouth and pinching his nose shut. His weak, half-drunken flails did nothing to disrupt her grip, and he finally had to swallow to avoid suffocation.

“What the fuck, Rox?” he spat once her hand had been removed, glaring daggers at the girl still straddling him.

“But don’t you feel better?” Rox smirked down at him. Justin opened his mouth to rebut, but closed it as he realized his headache had disappeared and his vertigo was gone. “Thought so. Let’s grab breakfast.”

Justin groaned and made to roll back over, but Rox grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet and then dragged him down the hallway toward the door that would lead them outside. Justin stumbled behind her, nearly slipping on the wet floor multiple times and only kept upright by Rox’s strong grip on his hand. The walk down to the exit was marked only by the sound of their footsteps on stone, Justin still too close to sleep to make conversation, but as soon as Rox opened the door, the Gryffindor boy found himself shocked fully awake. He may not have been hungover anymore, but that didn’t mean that blinding light and blistering cold air were pleasant experiences for the half-awake.

It doesn’t help that neither of them had thought to bring a coat to the party last night, despite knowing that the easiest exit led them outside. Now that Justin was awake he noticed that despite the fact the both he and Rox were now walking side by side, their hands were still clasped. Immediately, he pulled his hand away, causing Rox to give him a questioning look.

“Look, last night was fun,” he started. “And the sex was great, don’t get me wrong. But last night can’t happen again.”

“What?” Rox asked, not sure she was hearing correctly.

“You had to have known when you invited me. I only date Gryffindor girls, and while you’re tough and strong and you can drink most of the guys I know under the table, you’re just not…brave,” he responded with a shrug.

Rox could feel her jaw drop, though she left herself the dignity of keeping her mouth closed. Then, her lips set in a thin line as she issued the challenge, “What do I need to do to prove to you I’m just as good as any Gryffindor bitch?”

He was about to say nothing. Nothing she could do would elevate her out of the patheticness that is being a Hufflepuff. Then, he caught a glimpse of the gnarled branches marking the edge of the Forbidden Forest. They looked almost otherworldly, covered with ice that reflected the early morning son, and they gave him an idea.

“Go farther than me into the Forbidden Forest,” Justin smirked. He expected Rox to refuse, but even if she took the challenge, he was fully prepared to win. Someone needed to teach her that being a Gryffindor wasn’t something you could play at, and he wanted to be that person.

“You’re on,” Rox spat at him, determination glinting in her eyes. She began storming down the hill towards the trees, frost covered grass crunching beneath her boots. Justin hurried to catch up, Rox’s speed putting her ahead despite her shorter legs.

As soon as they were under the forest canopy, the chill in the air became more pronounced as the sun was blocked by the canopy. Rox felt goosebumps prickling over her body and a chill run down her spine, but determination kept her eyes firmly ahead, which turned out to be a poor decision when she tripped over a protruding root and landed face first on the forest floor.

“Sure you want to keep going, love?” Justin laughed, eyebrow raised as he caught a glimpse of Rox’s thong from her splayed position.

“How about you shut your whore mouth, Wood?” Rox shot back while she wiped away the blood on her cheek from a cut caused by an unusually sharp branch. Justin shrugged at that and kept moving forward, making Rox the one playing catch up this time.

As she fell into step beside Justin, she began picking twigs out of her Mohawk, a task made decidedly more difficult by the numbness seeping into her fingers. Fingerless gloves made for a cool aesthetic, but they definitely lacked functionality. Despite her distractedness, Rox made sure not to fall and give Justin the satisfaction of watching her fail at something as simple as walking again. This task became more difficult the further they got into the forest, as less and less sunlight broke through the tree branches and a lighting almost like twilight descended.

As the two continued into the forest, the silence between them became tenser and tenser. Each cursed the other for being cold and tired and hungry.

“Look, Rox, I’m going to miss the Quidditch game if you keep being stubborn, so let’s just agree to disagree and head back,” Justin said after a while. He stopped, arms crossed and brows knit together in irritation as he stared at the stubborn girl in front of him.

“You should have thought of that before you came up with this dumb challenge,” Rox replied with a roll of her eyes. “If you want to turn back, go for it, but there is no way in hell you’re getting me to turn around first. That is, unless you want to admit that I’m twice the Gryffindor you are.”

“Keep dreaming, PygmyPuff,” Justin growled, sneering face inches from Rox’s own. His warm breath splashed across her face, filling her nostrils with heat the smell of last night’s jello shots. She glared up at him, wishing not for the first time in her life that she had been graced with her brother’s height.

Their stand off was interrupted by a low growl from their left. Both teenagers slowly turned to face the sound, only to find a pair of glowing yellow eyes staring at them from out of the bushes at the edge of the clearing in the trees they’d found themselves in. The growling grew louder as more sets of eyes appeared, and all Rox and Justin could do was stand there frozen, waiting with bated breath for the stillness that suddenly seemed to overtake the forest to end.

The moment was broken when three large wolves jumped toward them. Rox didn’t even take a moment to think: she had turned around and ran in the opposite direction as fast as her legs could carry her. Behind her she thought she heard Justin yelling spells and the whimper of an injured dog, but more pressing to her was the sound of paws on fallen leaves behind her. She ran like a rabbit, dodging between trees and trying to lose the wolf that she could swear was getting closer.

Rox ended up landing hard on her left leg when the ground around a tree she was passing was far slicker than it appeared. Even her combat boots which had served her well on the slick ground couldn’t prevent her fall. She tried to get up and continue running from the beast that she could hear closing in, her leg gave out beneath her whenever she tried to stand.

The sound of the beast running was suddenly cut short and replaced by the sound of wet growling. Rox reached into her boot for her wand, but only pulled out half of it, the silver of the unicorn hair glinted even in the low light. It had broken when she fell, and Rox cursed her rotten luck. She cursed again when she caught the sight of a drooling muzzle and yellow eyes peeking around the tree.

In a moment, the wolf had pounced on her, claws scratching into the exposed skin of her arms and legs, and teeth sinking into the flesh of her right shoulder, making Rox scream. Rox fought back on instinct, years of fist fights serving her well. She used her good leg to kick hard into the wolf’s stomach with her steel toed boot and the arm she could move to stab her broken wand through its eye repeatedly. That got the animal to back off, though it didn’t leave. Rox stood on her knees and turned her wince into bared teeth she growled through. The wolf stepped closer momentarily, planning its next attack, when a series of howls distracted it. Then, it disappeared into the brush, and after what seemed like an eternity of waiting for it to return with its pack in tow, Rox slumped against the tree, figuring the wolves had gone off in search of easier to kill prey.

Without the threat of immediate death, Rox was able to more thoroughly take stock of her injuries. She’d twisted her knee when she fell, and moving her right arm resulted in sharp pain in her shoulder. Not one to sink into self pity, Rox immediately started to look for materials she could use to patch herself up, relatively speaking. She’d always loved care of magical creatures, and humans were just another creature. Using her bloody, broken wand shard, she was able to peel off two sizable pieces of tree bark, which she bound on either side of her knee with a vine that was snaking along the ground. That would at least give her knee some support when she inevitably had to move again.

Rox crawled the short distance to a fallen tree, and pulled a medium sized branch from it to use as a walking stick and keep weight off of her bad knee. Hoisting herself to her feet, Rose gripped the stick in her left hand and began to vigorously scan the forest floor for garlic or burdock or anything she could use to try and keep the wound on her shoulder from getting infected. She pointedly did not think about how she was alone in the Forbidden Forest with no wand and no coat on the cusp of winter and the only one who knew she was there was a prat who might not even tell anyone where she was. Nope. She most definitely did not think about that or the likelihood she would die as she stared determinedly at the ground and tried to recall professor Sprouts lectures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the fun begin


	11. Catch Me I'm Falling

As James stared at his team, he felt a headache begin to throb in his right temple. He hadn’t asked much. He really hadn’t. He had just politely requested that if anyone on his team decided to go to the Halloween party the day before the Ravenclaw match that they take it easy. Drink water. Take hangover potion the next morning. What he got instead of a nice team who obeyed their captain was a mass of hung over zombies staring listlessly at him. That wasn’t even considering the fact that Wood, his star keeper, was nowhere in sight.

“Don’t be so cross, cap,” Erika groaned from where she sat splayed on a bench. “It’s not our fault the hangover cure your cousin sold us was a dud.”

“Which cousin?” James asked, praying the answer was Lucy and not her partner in crime, but knowing what her answer would be.

“Louis,” she responded, and James bit his cheek so he wouldn’t scream. Not only was Louis on the other team, he was the one who wouldn’t hesitate to sell a dud potion to get the upper hand. Lucy had a stringent code of morals that kept her in check. Louis only had Lucy, and Lucy couldn’t be there all the time. This led to Louis doing things like hustling second years out of their Hogsmeade money and selling fake potions. “He gave us an incredible discount though.” As if that made it any better and shouldn’t have been a major red flag.

He was about to correct that flaw in judgment, when who but Justin Wood came flying into the meeting tent. He had scratches on his face and sticks in his hair and a frantic expression on his face. Before James could even make a smart quip about him being late, he was disappearing back into the boys’ changing room to put on his uniform. James could have taken the high road. He could have gone back to prepping his team, but he had a feeling no amount of prepping would be able to pull a win for them. So, James allowed himself to be petty, and waited in silence for Wood to come back.

“What were you doing that made you so late?” James asked once Wood returned, looking less haggard than when he has initially run through.

“Fighting wolves in the Forbidden Forest,” he replied hollowly. James rolled his eyes, all to used to Wood’s outlandish excuses for being late and thinly veiled metaphors for sex. With all of his team there physically if not mentally, James once again began to run through plays. He also patiently reminded everyone of the Ravenclaw team’s strengths and weaknesses and how they could best exploit the weaknesses and counteract the strengths. The stares he got in return were vacant, and he suddenly felt a lot less guilty for not spending all of the previous night preparing for the match like he normally did.

It seemed that all too soon they were being called to the pitch, James let the rest of his team go while he stayed behind for a moment. It wasn’t uncommon for him to take the last minutes before the game started to be alone and calm his nerves, even before he was captain. Everyone had gotten used to it to the point that the student sent to gather the Gryffindor team always left slightly early and had for years. It was just a minute, but a minute that he had grown to cherish. A minute that on this date was interrupted by an arm snaking around his waist and a familiar nose poking at his ear.

“Everett,” James smiled as he turned in the other boy’s arms. A gentle kiss was pressed to his lips, which he returned with enthusiasm.

“Going to win today, Captain?” the Slytherin boy asked, and James couldn’t hold in his sigh.

“My team is completely hung over, so I doubt it, but you never know.”

“I could always help you out a bit from the stands,” Everett offered into his neck, causing James to roll his eyes.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I would rather win or lose on my own.”

“Well, I’d rather you’d win so we could celebrate tonight,” Everett pouted, before a wicked glint appeared in his eyes. “But then again I guess if you lose I could always comfort you.”

“You are evil,” James grinned as he pulled away to go to the pitch.

“More than you know,” Everett quipped back as he always did, watching James disappear into the afternoon sun. James grinned back at him, and attributed the sudden warmth in his chest to the upcoming game, because it most definitely had nothing to do with the Slytherin boy he may or may not have been seeing for there months. Besides, with the match about to start, any thought that wasn’t of Quidditch had to be pushed to the back of his mind.

Walking out onto the field was always an experience. The sudden shift from a dim soundproof, tent to a bright open field surrounded by screaming teenagers was always jarring, but there were few better ways to get pumped to play. James made his way to midfield and shook hands with Coleen, the Ravenclaw captain, before taking off to the sky and waiting for the game to begin.

Once the whistle was blown, both James and Lysander Scamander dove for the Quaffle, but just as James’ fingers brushed it, the Ravenclaw boy scooped it away. James chased after him until he passed the ball to his left to his twin’s waiting arms. Lorcan only got another couple of feet before Louis was in front of him, bat ready for the Bludger racing toward them. What he wasn’t ready for was Lorcan running into him, causing the Bludger to miss his bat and bounce painfully off of his shoulder.

“Oh that had to have hurt,” Erik Maritz said with a wince over the loud speaker. “One more hit like that could take Louis Weasley out for the season. And- oh Lucy Weasley has just shown Marianne Cromwell her disapproval for hitting her cousin with her own Bludger. And it looks like that is a broken forearm for Marianne. The Weasley twins hold the record for most opponent’s bones broken with a total 626 – 627 if Marianne’s radius and ulna are shot – in their six year stint as the Ravenclaw team’s beaters.”

Erik continued to drone on about the stats of various players as everyone came back to the ground for Marianne to get her arm healed. Lucy was checking to make sure Louis was ok in her own way, which included scolding and exaggerated hand gestures. From what James could parse, she was lecturing him on being more careful, especially with his bad shoulder. All in all, the break lasted less than five minutes, just long enough for Dr. Boot to charm Marianne’s arm back into one piece.

Then, they were in the air again. Gryffindor scored. Then Ravenclaw. Then Ravenclaw. Then Gryffindor. The Gryffindor seeker almost caught the Snitch, but ultimately fell short. Narrating it all was Erik, his voice becoming more and more grating as the game wore on. Ten points for Gryffindor. Twenty for Ravenclaw. Ten for Ravenclaw. Ten for Ravenclaw. Thirty for Gryffindor. James smiled as he put the Quaffle through the hoop again, quickly got on the defensive and out of Ravenclaw territory, almost getting hit by another one of Marianne’s Bludgers on the way.

The Bludger that missed James was on its way to Louis, who was more focused on another Bludger coming from the other direction. He didn’t even see the one Marianne had hit that was speeding towards his bad shoulder. Then, from out of seemingly nowhere, was Lucy. She sped upward on her broom and got in front of Louis just in time to block the Bludger from hitting his shoulder and putting him out of commission. She just so happened to protect her cousin’s shoulder with her head 

Lucy hadn’t had a chance to slow her ascent, so even after she had blocked the shot and had gone unconcious, her broom continued to ascend. She was at least thirty feet higher than Louis when she finally fell. The entire arena went dead silent as everyone watched the Ravenclaw beater make her descent like a fallen angel, the winter sun making her blonde hair almost glow. Everyone on the field stopped and stared in horror, no one thinking to try and catch her.

Time seemed to start again when Lucy landed hard on her head. Blood seeped out from her head, creating a sickening halo. Professors were running toward the girl sprawled unconscious on the Quidditch pitch, but they weren’t there nearly as fast as Louis, who had rushed to his cousin’s side as soon as he had snapped out of shock.

The blond boy knelt at Lucy’s side, wanting to cradle her limp form, but too afraid to touch her less he make her injuries worse. Other students flooded from the stands onto the field, everyone wanting to get a closer look. James made his way from the sky to Louis, holding his cousin tight as he shook with silent sobs and Dr. Boot looked over Lucy’s still frame. She was breathing, at least. James could tell that from where he was standing several feet away. She was alive. She was alive. She was alive.

The thought ran on repeat in James’ head as the words fell from Louis’ lips as a broken mantra. Dr. Boot, ridiculously calm despite the unconscious teenager bleeding in front of him, levitated Lucy and began walking her to the infirmary. Louis and James were close behind. The professors present at the game, so basically every professor at Hogwarts give or take a few, formed a circle around the boys, Lucy, and Dr. Boot, blocking onlooker’s views to give them some privacy.

“LUCY,” a strangled cry rang out, breaking Louis and James out of their own minds, which were filled with worry and disbelief. Moments later, Liz was throwing herself at Professor Aribatte, desperately trying to break into the inner circle containing Dr. Boot, Lucy, Louis, and James. Tears streaked down her face and her breath came in rugged gasps as she repeatedly tried and failed to reach the unconscious girl. Her arms reached for Lucy, but Professor Arribatte held firm, assisted by her large stature, and Liz only succeeded in brushing Lucy’s cold, limp hand. She made eye contact with Louis, silently begging him to say something to let her be with Lucy, but he just looked away, leaving her on the outside.

The crowd of students followed the group to the castle, but the professors went from forming a circle to making a barrier, blocking the door to the castle and at least temporarily giving Dr. Boot time to get to the infirmary undisturbed. Eventually, the crowd of students dissipated, finding other entrances to the castle to get out of the cold. Eventually, only one 7th year Slytherin girl remained. She was hunched over on her knees, sobs ripping violently from her chest. Cold seeped from the ground into her legs through her pants, but she didn’t notice. Every part of her seemed to be equally numb, except for her chest, which she was fairly certain had been removed at some point without her knowledge.           

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two Weasleys down. So many more to go.


End file.
